


The Host

by CryptCreeperX



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Horror, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Suicide, Terror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 90,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4027759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CryptCreeperX/pseuds/CryptCreeperX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet but troubled youth, Cloud Strife has always let his aggressive nature get the best of him. He leaves his tainted past behind in the hopes of joining an elite gang of soldiers for glory and redemption. But flipping burgers at Chocobo Chow, enduring a colorful-yet-perverted boss, and living in the Slums during unsafe times wasn't in the plan. Neither were repeated rejection letters from Shinra Inc. As Midgar City becomes overshadowed by a string of unexplained gruesome deaths, an intense encounter with an enigmatic silver-haired Host presents Cloud a new obstacle.</p><p>Welcome to LOVELESS: an underground club of beautiful but bizarre men. Guided into their world of sensual pleasure, Cloud finds himself at the mercy of a Host who revels in dark passions. And obsession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Love Letter

 

**~PROLOGUE: The Love Letter~**

Cloud Strife  
332nd Street  
Sector 7, Midgar

July 12, X002

Dear Mr. Cloud Strife,

Please be advised that your application for enlistment in Shinra Electric Power Company's Public Safety Division has been examined and reviewed. Only ten percent of all applicants are admitted each year. You were among the 2,146 candidates who sought enlistment into our program this past summer. Unfortunately, your application did not receive favorable consideration from our Committee by reason of insufficient preliminary scores in the comprehensive exam and failure to meet Fit-for-Duty physical requirements. More specific impediments from your results included: underweight, rapid pulse, and kinetosis. Due to the high intense nature of our program, both medical and physical conditions need to be considered for all applicants as they may hinder performance, increase risk to crew, property, and public safety.

The records of this office show that you've applied to our program in the years X000, X001, and the current X002. In accordance to Article 329, the cut-off point for reapplication is four, at which point any future attempts for admission will no longer be accepted by this division.

Enclosed is a list of specific expectations and recommended material to review should you endeavor to reapply before the cut-off point has been reached. If you have any questions over your application review, the review process, or the list of requirements please contact our office. All other inquiries can be found on our website at the designated FAQ section. We appreciate your continued interest in our program, Mr. Strife, and wish you the best of luck.

With regards,  
Lazard Deusericus  
Union Executive  
Public Safety Division


	2. Chocobo Chow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Be forewarned, raunchiness and foul language. Naughty humor and sex-related moments can be blamed on my fixation on sex-fused 80s films. Customer woes can be related to my job in retail. Anyway. If this chapter had an opening soundtrack, I imagine it would be playing Kung Fury's 'True Survivor' with David Hasselhoff. Mwuahaha. Chocobo Chow Happy Meals for eeeeveryone!_

**CHAPTER 1: Chocobo Chow**

The promise the wolf had brought was written in its ice-blue eyes. And that promise was _despair_. During a great blizzard, a massive wolf unlike any other had appeared at the outskirts of a sleepy town. The Fenrir. It had harbored no fear. No sense of right and wrong. Its notions of compassion and forgiveness were limited to the natural laws of the beast.

On this particular night, the massive animal drew low and closer to its small prey; some blond-haired child with similar blue eyes and an aggressive behavior that matched its own. That child… He had barely held onto his rusty broadsword. Yet, he'd managed to stare directly into the predator's eyes and not wavered. The open wilderness was their audience. Only in this place did one primal rule exist: to kill or be killed.

Their silhouettes had circled around each other in a slow waltz while the blizzard raged around them. Inches of snow were crushed by bloodied paws. From dark gray skies, flakes of ice had fallen. It'd been cold that winter night with visibility near to none. Both participants had waited for the other to make the first move. Hunter against hunter. With strings of saliva over its wet fangs, there was a cloud of cold air from the wolf's parted mouth. A steady growl gradually had developed from the pits of its stomach until the mouth stretched wide and a single, earth-shattering howl echoed across the land. It was a battle cry. Tightening his grip over the sword's handle, the child had briefly shut his eyes to prepare for the inevitable. Blood was spilt that winter night.

_Despair_. It was a promise the child would never forget. He'd endure it the rest of his life, including today.

" _I didn't order the Chocobo Spicy Sandwich, idiot! I ordered the Number One! The Super-Duper Chilly Supreme Chocobo Chow! How can you get that wrong? Did you even graduate from high school? Or are you one of those damn country boys from some backwater, washed-up town that keep coming here and polluting our fine city with your hillbilly IQ?_ "

A loud-mouthed mother of five in the mini-van yelled a slur of obscenities outside the drive-thru window. Strings of spit flew. Thin lips shaped into a snarl. She tossed a paper bag out of her car and spilled all of its edible contents over the driveway. Five freckle-faced children sat at the backseat, too occupied with their PHS games and movies to pay attention. Their electronic devices beeped, clicked, and banged nonstop throughout the whole commotion.

It was a Friday night, that special time of the week where positive and negative energies violently clashed and spewed throughout the streets of Midgar City. The entire block of Twenty-First Street composed of brightly lit, rainbow-colored fast-food restaurants, coffee shops, bookstores, and PHS service providers. They stacked on top of each other in various-sized cubicle sets, piling as high as the eye could see. Elevators and ridiculously tall spiraled, gated staircases allowed access to the extreme higher levels. Several of these cubicle _skyscrapers_ dominated Twenty-First Street.

The neighborhood was a giant cluster-fuck of commercialism where Gil was revered as the holy messiah. At the lower levels, steam evaporated from rusted metal gates and pipes. Cars honked through slicked roads. Billboard signs and words flashed with neon pinks, yellows, and blues. Couples strolled, some wearing disposable pleated face masks to prevent airborne disease. Finely dressed pretty boys stalked the streets with their PHS and passed out business cards. It had all the making of a promising Friday.

A cheery upbeat melody drifted in the air. Its lively whistles came from an animatronic in the form of a massive, yellow Chocobo with crossed-eyes. The iconic mascot stood at the ground level of Twenty-First Street. Proudly waving a red flag, every ten seconds the robot automatically warked and promised all customers a tasty meal for a great price. It stood next to a colorfully designed cubicle with an attached glassed playground. Wark-wark-wark. Chocobo Chow: Midgar City's finest fast food restaurant. Satisfaction guaranteed.

The mother's beady brown eyes glared up at a blond-haired teenager who stood at the opposite side of the drive-thru window. He claimed a noble height of five-foot-seven with a lean frame. Clear-blue, intense eyes were dimmed by years of fatigue and mild irritation. On his Chocobo Chow badge read the name, _Strife_. A fitting name. One of the mother's children lowered a backseat window and popped his head out. Dressed as a cowboy, the child aimed his water pistol straight at the teenager's goofy looking hat. He squeezed the trigger and sprayed a thick line of water at it. The child giggled.

Cloud Strife didn't say a word. He closed his window and effectively silenced the sounds of the woman still yelling at him and the brat now laughing. Sound control: it was beautiful. Already a Clean-Up Unit had been dispatched and appeared outside. The tiny robot beeped loudly while it tended to the mess on the driveway. On the side of its metal face was a diamond-shaped logo: Shinra Electric Power Company.

According to the digital clock on the wall close by, it was past eight o' clock. Already, Cloud hated his evening shift. He was already tired from a strenuous afternoon class. And now this crap.

Chocobo Chow was a popular food chain, one of the few with a drive-thru in Midgar. But it brought out a lot of difficult customers. Most of them arrived with an attitude; all self-entitled assholes who acted like Gods while they rode the ass of a boy earning seven-fifteen an hour. Cloud wasn't perfect. Mistakes happened. But if he forgot to add in that extra packet of sauce or plastic utensils in their happy meal, heaven help him, he was quickly reminded of his failure as a human being.

Annoyed, Cloud rechecked the order he had filed on the computer for the rotten woman outside. Then he glanced at the holographic interface menu that projected close to him. His fingers waved and clicked a few options. Granted, he wasn't the sharpest man in the planet. But he certainly wasn't deaf or illiterate. The woman ordered the Number One. The Number One was the Chocobo Spiced Sandwich. The Number Ten was the Super-Duper Chilly Supreme Chocobo Chow. Apparently, she got the two numbers mixed up. But that wasn't her problem; it was his. Always his.

Outside, the giant Chocobo animatronic warked out loud, as if to remind Cloud of the company's policies and his incompetence. The customer was always right. The customer came first. The customer's needs surpassed the wants of his entire existence. Cloud could've confirmed the order earlier on and saved them both the time and hassle. But the damn impatient woman had cut him off and sped up to his window before he got the chance.

"I hate humanity…" Cloud muttered and refilled the order in his computer. His fingers practically pounded on each button.

"I hear ya," a coworker agreed a few feet away. Chewing on a fry, a chubby teenager stood at the prep station in front of a large glass case. Inside a large glass case, robotic arms assembled ten burgers. With a half-cocked grin, the boy added, "But humanity did give us instant ramen and cybersex. So there is hope for our species after all, yeah?"

Cloud saw the toothy grin on the young man's face widen. Wedge, a slacker who would likely never graduate from high school or get laid, enjoyed only two things in life: food and porn. His collection of hardcore Wutai smut was almost as large and impressive as his round belly. Wedge's close buddy and partner-in-crime was Biggs, another coworker at Chocobo Chow. The two were inseparable. Had Biggs not been assigned to delivery runs tonight, he'd be working the window and exchanging dirty jokes with Wedge right now.

On occasion Cloud hung out with the two misfits. They were okay guys who wanted to conquer the world and score with an indefinite number of women. Cloud often visited the arcades with them at the Slums. Together, the trio overdosed themselves with soda pops and impossible dreams.

Wedge briefly glanced at the woman outside Cloud's window. Despite the sound proof glass, she was still on a rampage. He had also overheard her say the Number One. However, the self-proclaimed _rolly-polly_ already knew it was pointless to argue with customers or prove Cloud's innocence. Wedge punched in a few buttons on a console. In front of him, the robotic appendages inside the glassed chamber began to assemble the Super-Duper Chilly Supreme Chocobo Chow.

"I'm gonna take a piss," Cloud notified and removed his headset. "Watch the window for me."

Wedge showed him a thumbs-up gesture.

Cloud headed to the men's restrooms, needing a small break and chance to relieve himself. He passed by the restaurant's seating area. Chocobo Chow's customers consisted of the usual clientele. There were the crying babies who carelessly tossed their food in the air, uncontrollable brats who ran amuck in the playground, parents nagging and yelling, club hoppers getting ready for a hard night of partying, and college-bound students on a limited food budget. It was never a dull moment with these customers.

Briefly, Cloud shut his eyes. The whole environment was an eyesore. Chocobo Chow's bright interior lighting gave him a mild headache, likewise the wacky color schemes and patterns on the walls. And everywhere he turned were images and sounds of Chocobos. He'd long since developed an urge to strangle them in his sleep. Glassed walls at the back of the restaurant revealed an outdoor children's playpen. It came complete with Chocobo swings, Chocobo riders, Chocobo monkey bars, and a Chocobo slide. Cloud slipped past two arguing parents and arrived at the men's restroom; his sanity barely intact.

" _Welcome, Chocobo_ ," an automated high-pitched voice greeted from a ceiling speaker. " _Wark-Wark!_ "

An annoying child-like tune played from the restroom's speakers. Cloud wasn't surprised to find the area a complete mess. On the sink's mirrors someone had scribbled tasteless words with ketchup and mustard. Meanwhile, two Clean-Up Units whirled back and forth on their roller wheels, mopping overflowed water from a malfunctioned toilet. Their cautionary tell-tale lights blinked nonstop and informed customers about the wet floors. Another Clean-Up robot tended to a mountain of discarded paper towels that hadn't been properly placed inside the dispenser.

Cloud muttered a curse word under his breath. He quickly looked away from a urinal next to him. Not flushed, it still contained a murky piss-yellow liquid inside its bowl. Cloud already dreaded tonight's clean-up. His brows shifted evenly when he heard soft noises coming from the last restroom stall.

Behind the closed door there was heavy breathing followed by the loud popping sounds of an eager, wet mouth. Cloud suspected what was going on and approached the restroom stall. Curiosity prompted him to peek inside through a small hinge opening. He could see a kneeled man in front of another male who stood with his back against a wall. The head between his legs bobbed up and down, faster and faster.

" _Yummy, yummy,_ " the automated voice advertised from above, " _You've never tasted a fully loaded Chocobo hotdog like ours. Order yours today! It's finger-lickin' good. Wark-wark!_ "

The loud sucking noises from the other side continued until Cloud knocked on the door. "Hey. _Lovebirds._ Get a hotel room. There're kids here."

The sucking sounds stopped. A few seconds later, the door unlatched and two men coated with perspiration and halfway-zipped pants appeared. Cloud took a step back to give them room. He tried not to focus on the first man that came out first, especially when the corner of his mouth leaked with milky white drops. The young man quickly wiped it off with the back of his hand and exited the restroom. His companion followed shortly after, sheepishly smiling at the Chocobo Chow employee.

Cloud suddenly felt awkward. He didn't say a word nor moved from his spot. Instinctively licking his chapped lips, Cloud set the odd reaction aside and went to the last urinal against a wall. He unzipped his fly, took proper aim with both hands, and conducted his original business.

" _Remember to wash your hands before you leave_ ," continued the voice above, " _A clean Chocobo is a happy Chocobo! Wark-wark!_ "

More annoying suggestions and advertisements emerged from the speakers above while Cloud urinated. Some of the words were repeated in other languages for the bilingual population. Cloud learned it all by heart. For three years it was the same crap. He knew how to say 'please dispose of trash' and 'never talk with your mouth full' in Wutai. It was probably one of the few perks of working full-time in a shitty place that paid only minimum wage with no healthcare benefits. When Cloud finished his leak he washed his hands with foamy hand soap that smelled of raspberry.

Looking up at the sink's mirror, Cloud surveyed his colorful yet bizarre image. Water-blue eyes. Wild blonde hair. A teen trapped beneath layers of absurd clothing and misery. The Chocobo Chow uniform was certainly the stuff of nightmares, containing a stark yellow buttoned shirt with blood-red trousers. On the sleeve of Cloud's top was a sewn image of the restaurant's mascot: a yellow fat bird that triumphantly waved a red flag. To Cloud, it always looked like a Chocobo humping on a stick. The fact his last name had been stenciled below such a crude image made him clench his teeth. The hat itself blossomed with yellow feathers, each poking out from the top like a Mohawk. Two strange, wing-like shapes sprang out from the sides while a horrendous, plushie-sewn head of a Chocobo appeared in front of the cap's crown. Cloud sniffed his uniform once and made a face. Despite the fact he hand washed his uniform three times yesterday, used extra soap, and sprayed it with a fresh fragrance, it still smelled of grease.

Disgusting. Each time Cloud slipped on his uniform he felt like he was trading his soul in the process.

Cloud shut off the faucet and dried his hands. He looked at himself in the mirror one last time. Pinching both of his cheeks, the snarky teenager imitated the happy high-pitched voice from the speakers: " _Hello, welcome to Chocobo Chow! I'm Cloud Strife. How can I royally fuck up your order today?_ "

Cloud tucked in his shirt under iron-pressed pants and made sure he looked presentable to the public. Considering his atrocious attire, though, being _presentable_ was hardly possible. Cloud washed off the nasty words on the mirrors with a paper towel and manually flushed the urinal that reeked of sour piss. While the Clean-Up Units continued to mop, he pulled up a digital interface on the stall's door. Overriding a few commands, the words 'Out-Of-Commissioned' successfully appeared in red on the door. The stall electronically locked itself from future use. He'd deal with the clogged toilet later.

Satisfied, Cloud finally exited the restroom to return to his station. He crossed the seating area and arrived at the other side when, abruptly, a customer near the cash registers made a scene.

" _This meat is undercooked! Unbelievable! Look at this! It's raw!_ "

Perfect. Another customer; another problem. Turning to the direction, Cloud saw a disgruntled man point a finger at a female coworker.

Few people addressed the girl by her formal name, Elena. She preferred _Ele'_. For the most part, the teenaged punk girl kept to herself. With black eyeliner and cherry black lipstick, Ele' stood at the registers with arms crossed. Sure, there were the mandatory dress code protocols in Chocobo Chow but she ignored every one of them and indulged in her creative compromises. Half of her head was shaved off and revealed a stylized tattoo. The other section showcased locks of natural blond dyed to a vibrant blue. Several buttons from her uniform's top were left undone to reveal a bright pink provocative blouse with chains of crosses around her neck. Ele' certainly wasn't the damsel-in-distress type.

From what Cloud recalled, she used to work at a rough bar in the Slums, one that catered to the Turks. Ele's father also served as an officer in Midgar's army and now taught at the Academy. Perhaps it was her confident attitude that allowed the boss to overlook her many offenses. That and the long line of male customers she continuously attracted to their lowly establishment in Twenty-First Street.

Working as tonight's cashier, Ele' displayed an unreadable look on her face while chewing on a stick of gum. The army brat didn't flinch when the customer's tone sounded harsh. Nor did she verbally respond back to his accusations until she surveyed the rest of his _oh-so-terrible_ meal herself. The basket of fries was empty; same for the large-sized beverage. Only a few crumbs of a dessert that accompanied the meal remained. The Chocobo burger itself was nearly gone; a single bite left. Ele' returned her attentions back to the man. Her chestnut-brown eyes didn't blink nor look away.

"The meat is just _terrible_ ," the man griped again and shoved his tray of food toward her. He opened the remains of the burger to show her its insides. "I'm not paying for this worthless crap. I want a refund."

From his station, Cloud narrowed his eyes and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Wonderful. It was another cheapskate asshole. They had a lot of them these days. Rather than pay for their meal like everyone else they preferred to exploit their restaurant's policies for a freebie. Their prices were already low, but for these people nothing could ever be cheaper than free food.

Cloud took a step forward, halfway tempted to give this customer a piece of his mind. It wouldn't be the first time he received a write-up or potential assault charges for punching a customer. Ele' glanced at his direction, however, and silently shook her head. Cloud stepped back.

"Well?" the man up front demanded. He ignored the nasty, intimidating look on Cloud's face. "Are you going to _fix_ this and give me back my Gil?"

"So let me get this straight, sir," Ele' spoke at last. Slowly. Precisely. While there was a long line of people still in front it didn't bother her. "You want a refund for a meal you practically finished?"

"Is that a problem, Missy? This meal was not to my satisfaction." The customer pointed at a projecting four-dimensional image of a Chocobo. The words 'satisfaction guaranteed' spun above its head. The disgruntled man grabbed the small remains of his burger and slapped it down on the counter, as if to further prove his point. "I want my damn refund. _Now._ "

Ele' merely blinked. She stayed quiet and grabbed the plastic fork from his tray. Her aim was perfect. Stabbing the fork directly at the miniscule space between his fingers and the small burger bite, she dragged the discarded burger toward her. Ele' replied back with a calm smile, "That's no problem at all, sir. I'll personally see that the issue is resolved."

Ele's reassurance sounded more like a serious death threat. The man yelped and pulled his hand away. A hair closer and she would've stabbed his fingers. Quickly, he made for the exit but screamed, "I-I'm suing this place!"

Cloud bit back a smirk while Wedge downright chuckled. Ele' was a strange girl but always fun to watch. She didn't take crap from anyone. Perhaps her rebellious nature was a response to her rigid upbringing and family's high expectations. Or maybe it was that typical angst every teenager experienced while growing up and finding a questionable future ahead. Whatever it was, Ele' popped like a firecracker.

When Ele' briefly turned and flashed Cloud a smile, he felt his cheeks grow warm. That particular smile summoned a random, crude memory from the past. It was the same smile Ele' had given him during a hand-job. The sexual act didn't mean anything serious between them, especially when she already had a boyfriend. It was just something two hot-blooded teenagers did in the heat of the moment. Like smoking pot or eating high-calorie, fatty food.

To this day, Cloud couldn't figure out what appealed to him most: the hand-job itself or the complete randomness of it. Ele's casual, carefree look at life was something he admired and wanted to have for himself. So far his life consisted of fulfilling orders in Chocobo Chow, squeezing in time for General Ed classes, and personal training at the rooftop of his rat-hole apartment, despite complaints from the asshole landlord.

Within seconds, Ele' looked away and resumed her task as cash registrar. It prompted Cloud to return to his own job at the window. He realized the Super-Duper Chilly Supreme Chocobo Chow order was completed at the prep station. Wrapped in flimsy paper, Wedge had the order in his hand with a strange grin on his face. Cloud cocked a brow at him. He hoped that wasn't the foul woman's Supreme. It was ten minutes past due since he went to take a leak and left Wedge to deal with it. Cloud glanced out the window and felt his blood turn cold. The woman was still parked outside. Her eyes were wild with rage.

"Wedge…" Cloud started as he slipped on his headset. "I really hope you gave Minivan-Mom her Supreme Chow already. Please tell me she's not out there because she's _still_ waiting for it. She'll run me over with her van for sure."

The big boy grinned. "Hah, actually no, I didn't."

"What the hell, Wedge? Why didn't you? I left you in charge of the window."

"You know I still have trouble with the register. I couldn't ring up the other people after her. Besides, you weren't gone that long. I figured I could wait for you while I made the new orders coming in."

Cloud stared at Wedge. His lips pulled inward to form a thin line. He didn't know whether to yell or kill him. Cloud half-suspected Wedge simply didn't want to get chewed out by the nasty woman outside and therefore, waited for his return. He was a good guy and always meant well. But he was also an absentminded chicken-wuss who rarely functioned by himself without assistance. Even when Wedge worked at Chocobo Chow longer than Cloud, he still couldn't run the registers.

A quick glance at an overhead monitor and Cloud moaned. He covered his eyes with a palm. There was a long line of cars waiting after the minivan. A few of them honked their horns. Cloud knew he was going to be on the receiving end of an ass-whooping tonight due to the long delays.

"Damn it, Wedge," he addressed through gritted teeth, "Now we got a long line of people also waiting." Cloud held out his hand. "Give me her order right now before we get sued or I get assassinated."

Wedge held onto the Supreme Chow. "Ah, relax, Cloud. Like I said, I already prepped the other orders. I wrote them down. You just gotta type them up in the computer and scan their tat codes. Easy-peazy. So lighten up. Besides. I wanted you to be here to see the _special_ condiment I'm gonna leave that bitch for giving you shit earlier." Wedge raised a finger to his nose, threatening to dig out something special. "It'll add to the flavor, I think."

Cloud quickly shook his head. It was a bad idea, a _terrible_ idea. A thousand worse-case scenarios popped in his mind. By the time he opened his mouth to express any of them to Wedge, the blond teenager caught sight of a tall, overly muscular man at the corner of his eye. Cloud abruptly froze in place. Shit.

The shape of the man's head looked like a square, especially when he donned a ridiculous flattop haircut and thick sideburns. An awkward, bushy moustache decorated his mouth. Drooping down, it had a life of its own. The man's arms were massive and bulky while his chest was broad and puffed out.

A bear. A big-ass bear. That's what Cloud thought when he met Chocobo Chow's manager during his interview three years ago. An avid bodybuilder who visited the gym in the Slums, the man wore a well-ironed business suit that appeared two sizes too small for his large frame. The top buttons of his cotton shirt were left undone with coarse curls of pectoral hair popping out.

Cloud made a face when the manager turned toward Wedge's direction. No doubt, the manager heard about the line of impatient customers waiting at the drive-thru and wanted an update on the situation. The gesture proved pointless though. Cloud already knew his manager put up an excellent front when it came to problems that arose but rarely stuck around to actually _fix_ them.

Wedge remained clueless of the guy's presence, meanwhile. The big boy's back turned to the boss, Cloud's coworker inched his finger closer up his nose and snickered loudly. Cloud was ready to warn him but the manager now stood right behind Wedge. He placed two giant hands on the kid's shoulders.

"Bubby!" the manager announced, "Now, now. Mr. Mukki just knoooows you're not about to do anything naughty with that burger. _Riiiiiight?_ "

Startled, Wedge nearly leapt in the air. He did an about-face. His eyes shot wide opened. "Er, ah. Mr. Mukki! Um. Uh! S-so nice to s-see you this fine evening."

"Isn't it?" Mr. Mukki grinned back with shiny-white teeth. His heavily tanned face practically glowed. Still smiling, he pinched Wedge's chubby cheeks and pressed their foreheads together. "My, my, my… The stars are out. The babies are smiling. The lovers are kissing. Mr. Mukki is very pleased with tonight."

"Er. Y-yea, sir. Awesome."

"In fact, bubby, the only thing that could ruin Mr. Mukki's fine evening is if Mukki found one of his bubbies doing something naughty."

"R-right, Mr. Mukki."

"You're not doing anything naughty. Right, bubby?"

"Of c-course not, sir."

"Because only fun naughty makes Mr. Mukki happy. Not bad naughty. No one wants to upset Mr. Mukki with bad naughty things. Riiiight?"

"Absolutely not, sir." Wedge took a deep swallow. His eyes widened in horror when he soon found himself held tightly in Mr. Mukki's arms. The bear hug nearly sucked the life out of him.

"That's my good boy. Very good boy. Mr. Mukki is pleased."

At his station, Cloud stood in silence with mouth slightly parted. He forgot to breathe and merely watched Wedge struggle and gasp for air while locked in place by Mr. Mukki's strong arms.

Why Mr. Mukki referred to himself in the third person, called everyone _bubby_ , and enjoyed giving bear hugs was beyond Cloud's understanding. The man was a loon. Currently, a gloss of sweat had formed on the boss's forehead while his dorky moustache stretched out. He had a habit of sweating a lot. It was why the restaurant's temperature was often set to frigid cold despite customer complaints. It was likely from the steroids he secretly injected.

About the only redeeming quality Mr. Mukki had going for him was his fun-loving, open-minded, very forgiving nature. By all accounts, they all should've been fired. Hardly any of them could consistently keep true to Chocobo Chow's rules. But Mr. Mukki kept his gang of misfits. They were his bubbies. He ignored the constant customer complaints and gave his bubbies an infinite amount of chances to get their act straight. Of all the places Cloud had applied to for a job, Mr. Mukki was the only one who took him in, even without a high school degree or job experience.

Slowly, Cloud looked away from the strange scene between Wedge and Mr. Mukki. He readjusted his Chocobo hat to cover as much of his face as possible and hoped the manager wouldn't notice him.

"Ah, bubby!" Mr. Mukki suddenly called out. "Mr. Mukki seeeeeees yoooooou!"

Fat chance. No sooner did Cloud look away did the manager quickly abandon Wedge. It was now Cloud's turn to receive Mr. Mukki's infamous bear hug. Pulled in close to the man's hairy chest, Cloud coughed. The manager's strong cologne made it difficult to breathe. The boy struggled to put a bit of distance between them but Mr. Mukki merely laughed and grasped him even harder. Cloud felt like a ragged doll.

"Don't think Mr. Mukki has forgotten about _you_ , bubby," the manager exclaimed and pulled the blond-haired teen closer. "Ooooh, you're so soft. So tender, bubby! Mr. Mukki can just… _eat you_."

Cloud's cheeks flushed red. Everyone in the restaurant knew how much of a weirdo Chocobo Chow's manager could be. Mr. Mukki sat in his office all day to supposedly complete payroll, work on upcoming schedules, and conduct other ho-hum duties. In truth, he was usually found lifting weights or doing bench presses in his office. Anything but his job. The man was more invested in his passion for bodybuilding than actually managing a restaurant. It left his staff the burden of the work load.

"Tomorrow is your birthday, right, bubby?" Mr. Mukki eagerly asked.

Cloud bit into his lower lip, feeling reluctant to answer but obligated to anyway. "Yes, sir."

"Oooh! How splendid! Seventeen! A big man, bubby!" The manager hummed happily to himself. "To be seventeen again… To be reckless and have tons of fun. Mr. Mukki was quite the sport in his heyday. Mr. Mukki discovered a lot about himself that year. A _lot_ …" The big guy paused. A mischievous smile formed on his lips, especially when he looked at Cloud with the look of a hungry man. The moment passed before he eventually asked, "You doing anything for your birthday, bubby?"

From his peripheral vision, Cloud could see Wedge shake his head again and again and again. Cloud already knew about the birthday get-together his coworkers planned for tomorrow. However, it was important the matter remain undisclosed from the manager. Mr. Mukki had a terrible habit of tagging along whenever the crew wanted to do something together. He didn't care if he was twice their age and brought along his gym buddies who were just as weird as him, he'd crash the party anyway and pretend he was one of them. It was embarrassing.

"I'm, uh, gonna watch a movie at home and go to bed," Cloud lied.

"Going to bed _alone?_ " Mr. Mukki asked with a terrifying grin on his face. He immediately laughed it off when Cloud frowned. "Ah, bubby. That sounds… so lonely." Mr. Mukki hugged Cloud even tighter. In a lower voice, he asked, "Want some company, bubby? Mr. Mukki can treat you to something nice."

Cloud's throat went dry. "Er, um. No, sir. Thanks but, I'll be fine."

"You suuuuure, bubby? Mr. Mukki can show you a _good_ birthday time."

Behind him, Wedge turned pale. Cloud's own skin crawled with an unpleasant shiver. He always knew Mr. Mukki was a creeper. Any time the manager had to call someone into his office for a stupid errand it was always him. And each time Cloud arrived he found Mr. Mukki in a compromising position, usually in the middle of a _what-the-hell_ exercise activity; all full of sweat with only his tight-fitting briefs on. Coincidence? Cloud doubted it, especially when Mr. Mukki often asked him to join his _Young Bubby_ club. Whatever the hell that was.

While the thought of pressing sexual harassment charges against the manager did cross Cloud's mind, he was too embarrassed to follow up with it. He didn't want the world to know he was being sexually pursued by six-foot hairy bear that wore boxers in the office and talked in the third person. So long as Mr. Mukki gave him hours and a weekly pay check, Cloud was willing to put up with his overly eccentric and perverted manager. He needed this job.

Cloud shifted his body to the side in another effort to break free. For a moment, his thigh pressed against something hard. He knew it wasn't a pencil, not when Mr. Mukki suddenly giggled. Quickly, Cloud readjusted his position to push away from it. Desperate to get out of his bulky arms, he leaned to one side and informed, "Um, sir… We got a line of customers waiting. And I've got orders to fill."

The manager blinked once. Then twice. As if snapping out of his daze at last, he nodded several times. "Ah, yes, bubby! That's right, the customers! They come first. No more playing around. No more dilly-dally. Get to work, get to work. Make Mr. Mukki proud. Mr. Mukki wants to see smiles on every customer's face."

At last, he pulled away from Cloud. Both teenaged boys exchanged a look of relief. Wedge scurried to the other side of a counter. He wanted to put as much distance between him and Mr. Mukki as possible. Meanwhile, Cloud wanted a shower. Ten of them. He could still smell Mr. Mukki's cheap cologne on him. As their flamboyant manager took his first steps out of their area, the man temporarily stopped.

"Bubbies, be on your good behavior. Remember: Mr. Mukki is alwaaaaaays watching you." With a finger, the manager pointed at his left eye. Then he pointed at something in the ceiling.

Both teenagers saw a camera staring directly down at them. Smiling, Mr. Mukki waved goodbye and walked away. Cloud felt the color in his face drain. Despite Mr. Mukki's physical absence the majority of the time, his presence was still felt everywhere. He had installed a countless number of cameras throughout the establishment, some reportedly hidden. All video feedback was sent directly to his office. It served as a means of security and to keep an eye on the staff. However, Cloud glanced at the camera with a weary expression on his face. He had his suspicions.

"Baaah…" Wedge suddenly spat out loud. His eyes narrowed when he looked at the window.

Cloud turned to see what caught his attention. Outside, the annoying mother-of-five started slapping on the glass with the palm of her hand. She was still waiting for her order that was now fifteen minutes late. The sound-proof glass blocked out the words she spewed from her wretched mouth. Wedge quickly gave Cloud the Number Ten to shoo her away. The other teen inhaled sharply and prepared himself. In silence, he finally opened the window and held out her order.

"Fucking Goddamn hick! You made me wait over an hour on purpose! You little shit!" The woman snatched the grease-stained paper-bag from Cloud's hand. "This is the worst customer service I have ever gotten! I am going to put in a big complaint! You will lose everything! _Everything_ , you hear!"

"Of course, ma'am," Cloud responded in a flat tone. "You'll find all customer service-related information at the end of your receipt. Visit our website as well to download a complimentary coupon. Have a nice evening. Wark-wark-wark."

"Smart-ass!" The van's engine roared. Immediately, the woman drove off; tires squealed all the way.

More cars honked; a few customers popped their heads out of the window and yelled. There were at least twelve of them in the drive-thru. Above the racket, the annoying Chocobo animatronic issued its deals for more customers passing by. At the main eating area a kid vomited and cried non-stop.

Cloud hung his head down. Dropping off the edge of twelve-story-high building sounded really tempting right now. Wedge approached his coworker from behind and patted him on the shoulder.

"Meh. Look at it this way, Cloud, in a thousand years from now the world will likely end and no one will give a shit about Super-Duper Chilly Supreme Chocobo Chows."

Cloud returned to his station and stared at the computer in front of him. Orders after orders. He could see his entire life flash before his eyes. It consisted of Chocobos and customer discounts. He sighed. "Wedge. Remind me why I'm doing this again."

"To pay your way until you join the army, bang super-hot babes, save the world from catastrophe, and never have to deal with self-entitled bitches like Minivan-Mom ever again." Wedge stole a few fries from someone's order and stuffed them into his large mouth. Then he headed back to the prep area to work on the new requests that came into the kitchen.

Cloud took a deep breath.

His sour mood still didn't improve by the time the next customer arrived at his window, but he forced a smile on his face anyway and went through his regular routine. 'Would you like fries with that?' This line… It had become his life's motto thus far. At times Cloud hated himself for it, especially when he gazed at all the crying babies, loud brats, and annoying parents.

Admittedly, he was envious of all these people. No matter their background or age, they were legitimate residents of Midgar City. They all shared a decent chance of a good life here in a thriving metropolis. As for him? He was a homeschooled, country boy with not even a high school degree to his name. He worked at Chocobo Chow and resided below the Plate to make ends meet. Only a stubborn thought, actually an intangible dream, kept him going.

With a handheld device, Cloud scanned the barcode tattoo on a female customer's wrist to digitally collect her Gil and handed over the take-out bag. As the customer left, Cloud paused before closing his window. His blue eyes stared into the far distance.

Here was Midgar City: the crowning achievement of peaked human civilization. Its proud architects gloriously designed an industrial dreamscape composed of high-end fashion, progressive concepts, budding promises, and modern constructed perfection. Metal surfaces shined against the flares of neon lights. Skyscrapers stretched up for miles, many threatening to cut into the heavens. Large holographic billboards of attractive people and hotspots flashed and blinked from nearly every rooftop. A montage of power-juiced, innovatively designed cars followed the paths constructed for them.

In every direction, Cloud spotted a large Mako reactor. There were eight of them, each posted at the edge of the city. Impressive structures, they were. Massive. Sturdy. They supplied Midgar City her precious power and emitted bursts of raw green energy into the air. The way the Mako playfully danced, streamed, and shimmered above in the sky, it reminded Cloud of shooting stars. The reactors and city's designs, though, weren't the only highlights that held interest for him.

Standing tall and proud at the very center of Midgar City was Shinra's Headquarters: home of the strongest soldiers. A black chopper circled the heavily guarded complex while giant spotlights swayed back and forth from the ground.

It never failed. Each time Cloud reached the metallic surface of the Plate and saw this particular building, he felt inspired and renewed. This was why he came; why he endured. Many men traveled across the world to reach this location. Many shared his dream. Only a few actually succeeded and set foot inside Shinra Electric Power Company's complex. Behind those concrete walls and glass windows resided a future; _his_ future.

A massive black truck suddenly pulled up to Cloud's window, blocking the view of the building. Heavy metal music blared from the truck's speakers. A stoner with green spiked hair nodded to Cloud and waited for his order. The Chocobo Chow employee composed himself, remembering where he was and his current duties. He scanned the man's wrist and handed out the customer his bag. When Cloud saw another customer already at the menu window through a monitor, he greeted her and set himself on auto-pilot mode.

"Welcome to Chocobo Chow. Wark. Wark. Wark. How can I serve you today? Would you like to hear about our specials?" A long pause. "Sure. And would you like fries with that?"


	3. The Smiling Corpse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Glimpses into Cloud's private life. He's a complex guy and fun to write. He's shy/insecure, but also stubborn/determined. To me, those tiny hints of aggressive masculinity make him sexy and better equipped to engage with a guy like Sephiroth._

**CHAPTER 2: The Smiling Corpse**

It was another dead body. The corpse was discovered at the Entertainment District of Midgar this time, hanging upside-down from the glass ceiling of an avant-garde art museum; stark naked and soaked in its own blood and bodily fluids. Most of the skin left on it had rotten off, revealing meaty and juicy flesh. The face was barely recognizable as well. It was nothing more than a mix-mash of muscles and tissue. Traces of dried ejaculation from the victim had been splattered across the walls and floor along with dots of blood. The corpse represented a genuine masterpiece painted with human remains. Greenish cobweb-like veins had spread throughout the abdominal area, all originating from the pelvic area. The penis itself, the very essence and symbol of _Man_ … it was gone. Melted off at the root somehow, whatever remained of it threatened to detach itself the longer the body dangled in the air.

The corpse had hung there for a good eight hours until the museum's curator confirmed it was not a part of any installation piece to a potential art buyer. Now Shinra's infantrymen worked to get the bloody thing down without infringing on any evidence related to cause of death. The museum's surveillance feed, meanwhile, had already been transferred to the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department.

So far, this made it the nineteenth dead body found in Midgar with no explanation concerning probable cause. For many years the city had been gripped by the ghastly sight of festered corpses discovered across the Plate's Sectors. Most of them were well-off citizens with respectable jobs, some even high-profiled Shinra officials. There were no other connections established among the victims though. Nor did Shinra's team of investigators, the Turks, find a timeline between the deaths. Yet, the corpses all shared the same grisly details: liquefied insides, a lethal dose of Mako in the blood stream, and an unknown strand of DNA. While forensics had yet to identify the strand as either man or animal, they discovered the victims had all roughly expired within six hours of whatever they had come into contact with.

Already, the online community buzzed. Half appalled. Half fascinated. Speculations of a viral outbreak remained the topic of serious discussion. Environmentalists roared and claimed this was the Planet's way of settling old scores, especially with Shinra's ongoing exploits of Mako energy. Another group believed the corpses were somehow connected to the random monster sightings that also terrorized the city. And then there was President Shinra. He accounted the deaths as the result of a bioweapon created by extreme Wutai fractions.

The Company had been at war with Wutai for many years. Shin-Ra News already reported Wutai rebels within the Midgar population. According to them, the rebels had staged multiple attacks in the city. Shin-Ra News connected them to the monster sightings. Indeed, these were unsafe times. With the support of the Midgar's residents, President Shinra now prepared to send a battalion to the land of the Leviathan to settle this mess once and for all.

Already, various websites possessed leaked photos of today's fresh corpse. The pictures circulated like wildfire across forums and between PHS users. The face of the dead man was disturbing enough. A blackish liquid dripped from every possible orifice available. The corners of his mouth. Eyes. Ears. Nostrils. Anus. No doubt the hemorrhaging led to a slow and painful death. Even so, with bulged eyes rolled back and curled thin lips and black painted teeth, there was an opened half-crooked grin.

The man had died in complete contentment.

Sitting barefooted on the dusty wooden floor of his living space, Cloud kept his laptop propped between his crossed legs. _Death Strikes Midgar Again_ , read the headline of Shin-Ra News. There were brief mentions in the online article of the previous corpses found in previous years, along with victims of the monster sightings. Death had certainly gripped the city by the balls.

A large woven blanket covered Cloud's hunched form as he continued to read. Propped against his leg was a small brown-and-white spotted dog. The beagle tossed back and forth in her sleep, softly whimpering. Cloud gently scratched behind her ear while the walls around them rattled loudly in the wake of a train. It passed over their apartment building; a usual occurrence in this neighborhood. Behind him, meanwhile, the walls banged nonstop. His annoying apartment neighbors again… They were either fighting or having sex.

Within the cold darkness of his living space, Cloud kept his gaze on the corpse's image. He didn't blink. Didn't breathe. One hand held a half-eaten, chunky-chocolate gob. While it hovered close to his lips Cloud didn't take a bite of it. Loose crumbs from the cookie dropped as his clear blue eyes stayed fixated on the dark bloodstain patterns across the dead body's chest. He couldn't help but shift his eyes to the horrific sight of the pelvic area where the bloody flesh somehow gathered together and bled out. Some morbid curiosity within the teenager wondered if the man was hard before he bit the dust. It would explain the eerie satisfied smile on the corpse's face.

Midgar City… a hellish haven for the beautiful, the twisted, and the deprived.

" _I've about had it with that damn cat, Cloud,_ " a female voice interrupted Cloud's thoughts. " _My garden is ruined. If I wasn't of sound mind I'd bury my fingers into its large green eyes, skin it alive, and feed it to the wolves that prowl the woods right now. By the way, how are the chunky-chocolate gobs?_ "

Cloud's back stiffened. He nearly dropped his cookie at the woman's choice of words. He shifted his attention to another active window on his screen. It was a live video-cam chatroom. There, a woman in her early forties with wild blond hair tied back and similar clear blue eyes sipped tea from a chipped glass. The body of a small dead animal, some white-furred hare, rested on the table. A smile decorated the woman's face.

Mrs. Strife. His mother. She always had a wicked way of making sure her boy was paying attention to her, even if it did shock the hell out of him.

" _How are the cookies?_ " Mrs. Strife repeated. " _Good?_ "

"Huh?" Cloud could barely hear her voice above the sound of the train passing by.

" _The cookies, silly boy._ "

"Oh." Cloud reactively glanced at the chocolate gob in his hand. Near him was a small opened package with at least ten more. Each of them had the number _seventeen_ written with icing. As with most conversations, Cloud's response was brief and to the point: "They're great."

" _You're not looking at porn right now, are you?_ "

"What?"

 _"Is that why you keep spacing out like that?_ "

Cloud's cheeks flared with heat. He narrowed his eyes at his mother. Onscreen, Mrs. Strife laughed at her own joke. She had caught on to her boy's bouts of inattentiveness throughout their conversation. Cloud bit back a verbal reply. Instead, he rolled his eyes and minimized the corpse's image on his screen, taking away the temptation to read the rest of article.

" _I'm glad you enjoy the chocolate gobs_ ," Mrs. Strife mentioned later, " _I know it's not much. I wish I could've sent you a cake, but I doubt it would've arrived intact_."

"Hm. Cookies last longer anyway." Cloud stared at the dead rabbit on Mrs. Strife's table. Perfect white fur contrasted sharply with dots of red. The opened wound on its chest was clean and precise; its neck broken. He knew it had been a quick, merciful death. Curious, he asked, "Is that tonight's dinner?"

" _Yep_. _I hunted it this morning. I'm making your favorite stew in honor of today._ "

Cloud nodded. Admittedly, he missed the tender, meaty flavor of rabbit.

" _There was another present I wanted to send you, something you're old enough to have now_ ," Mrs. Strife started again. " _Unfortunately, the shipping costs would've been an arm and a leg._ "

"It's fine. The cookies are great. Really."

" _I'll give it to you when you visit._ " Mrs. Strife smiled again. " _Hard to believe… You're seventeen year's old today, Cloud. The Gods be good. Just yesterday I was changing your diapers and singing you lullabies._ "

Cloud took another bite of his birthday present. _Crunch._

It was August 11th today, a big milestone for him. However, Cloud didn't feel any different. Seventeen felt a lot like sixteen. And last year's sixteen felt a lot like fifteen. Nothing changed. He was still this clueless, five-foot-seven punk with wild blond hair. Stubborn and persistent by nature, he preferred to do everything by himself, which included cutting his hair no matter how much of a choppy mess he made.

Possessing a slender shaped body and a face that contained too many soft curves for his liking, Cloud hated how he'd taken after his mother. He adopted too many of her feminine traits. Back home he was an object of humiliation because of it. Cloud hoped this year he'd develop a manlier physique. Six-pack abs would be nice. He'd grow a beard if only his facial hair could stay even and not itch so damn much.

" _I wish you were here,_ " Mrs. Strife suddenly confessed with a sigh. When her eyes stayed glued to her son, she added in a firm disapproving voice, " _In fact, you_ should _be here. Tsk tsk._ "

"I know…" Cloud apologized, "I didn't have the Gil to pay for a ticket to visit."

" _Maybe next time you'll save in advance, silly boy,_ " Mrs. Strife suggested, halfway joking but also halfway serious. She paused when a cat-like _meow_ emerged off screen. Looking at something outside of Cloud's view, Mrs. Strife saw something out there and frowned. " _I swear, the Lockhart's family cat is going to be the end of me, son. My poor garden…_ "

"You never did like cats, Mom," Cloud responded dryly. He glanced up at a naked light bulb on his ceiling. Its light kept flickering on and off again until the train finally passed. The beagle sleeping by his side sensed the train was gone too and gradually woke up. Ms. Tinker pawed at Cloud's leg.

" _They're unpredictable, very dangerous creatures with little regard to anyone outside themselves,_ " Mrs. Strife claimed. " _Don't ever own a cat. They can't be trusted. Especially around gardens._ "

Cloud dangled a new cookie in front of Ms. Tinker and teased her with it, barely interested in the current talk with his mother. For the past hour their online conversation revolved around irrelevant topics like this. Yes, he ate regularly – _that was a lie_. Yes, he took out the trash – _he forgot this morning_. No, he didn't have a girlfriend – _that was true_. No, he hadn't gotten in serious trouble – _he punched a customer last week_. And maybe he wasn't a virgin – _he lost it years ago to some random girl who tasted like bubble gum and cigarettes_. Many times Cloud forced a small smile on his face. Now their talk focused on the neighbor's stupid cat. He quickly got bored.

"It's a cat," Cloud replied in between cookie bites. _Crunch._ He ate half of the treat but gave the rest to Ms. Tinker. "Cats do stupid things. You've handled wolves, bears, and other predators before. You can't handle an ordinary household cat? You're weird, Mom."

" _Cloud Strife…_ " his mother declared in an authoritative voice, " _Are you trying to get smart with your mother?_ "

"Nope. I wouldn't dream of it." _Crunch-crunch_. That reply came off a bit too sarcastic for his own damn good and earned him a scolding. Cloud issued an apology shortly after. Then he listened to the rest of his mother's adventurous day while rubbing Ms. Tinker's tummy.

It was a late Saturday afternoon. He'd already attended his General Ed afternoon class and showered for an evening shift at Chocobo Chow. With the air chilly outside, there came the promise of a strong winter.

As usual, Cloud kept in touch with his mother, especially on this special day. It was a part of their weekend routine and agreement. Ever since he left Nibelheim for the big city three years ago he gave her updates on his newfound freedom. The laptop he got on loan from a pawnshop served as a means of visual communication. He knew how much his mother needed to see his face.

Cloud was reluctant to talk about the current happenings in Midgar to his mother. Aside from the corpses, there were also monster sightings throughout the city and Slums. General Heidegger of the Public Safety Division advised all citizens to immediately report any suspicious persons or activities to the IMs. Cloud knew these details would worry his mother. He'd never hear the end of it.

Mrs. Strife sought out any excuse to drag her boy back home. She warned him about the naughty whores. The violent gangs. The vicious muggers. Temptation everywhere. Granted, it was all true. There was a lot of that here. But Cloud was a big boy. He could take care of himself. He'd done so for many years. His time in the Slums wasn't going to last forever anyway.

The banging next door grew louder. Ms. Tinker started to growl at the muffled moans and bed squeaks coming from the wall behind them. Cloud softly sighed to himself and huddled deeper inside his blanket.

"Yea, Mom, I'm doing all right," he replied when she later asked him a direct question. Cloud wiped off tiny chocolate chunks from the corners of his mouth with a finger. When he realized his mother was still waiting on specific details, he added with sigh, "I've just been busy with a lot of things."

" _Busy with a lot of things?_ " his mother repeated and cocked a brow. She tapped the cup in her hand with a loose finger and frowned. " _You're being a good boy over there, right, Cloud? No funny business? I've warned you about those city girls. They aren't good girls. Stay away from them._ "

Cloud bit the insides of his mouth. He should've known his mother would spin his words around and make this into a _girl issue_. She constantly worried over him screwing every girl on the block and getting them all pregnant. As if that was possible.

Yeah, he went on dates and had a few flings on occasion. The girls all thought he was cute; a country boy with rural charms. They found his wild platinum-blond hair both unusual and appealing. Even his social awkwardness and inability to form coherent words during his states of nervousness didn't faze them. In their eyes, it made him even more endearing and handsome. But he was definitely no Don Cloud. The country boy from Nibelheim had better luck wooing his beagle than he did a human being. Cloud was clueless in the art of _suave_. Of course, he didn't really care for it. He had bigger priorities to tend to.

"It's not the girls, Mom," Cloud retorted, "I'm busy preparing for the try-outs coming up."

" _The try-outs…_ " Mrs. Strife suddenly realized. She blinked several times. Then her shoulders sagged and she asked, "… _So you're trying to enlist in the army again?_ "

"Mm-hm."

A short pause. " _When are the try-outs happening? Will you be ready for them?_ "

"Spring time. Early May. And yea… I think I'm ready. I mean, I will be." Cloud licked his dried lips, a bit disappointed by his lack of personal conviction. "I gotta pack on some pounds. But I've been taking classes for the comprehensive exam and am feeling stronger with my personal training. I, uh, got a good feeling about this one. I think I'll get accepted this time."

Glancing at a promotional Shinra army poster on a wall, Cloud felt the muscles of his stomach tighten. A bit of anxiety kicked in. Admittedly, his mother wasn't the only one with doubts.

He'd been rejected three times. The coming spring served as his last chance for enlistment. Cloud hadn't anticipated this level of failure. In fact, he had laid out his future when he first set foot in Midgar City. In his head, it was a done deal. He was going to enter Shinra's army and earn a spot in an elite class of soldiers. The crème de la crème. He'd become a strong, disciplined, and well-collected warrior just like them. Protecting the people and hunting unworldly beasts that stalked the land would be his thing. Glory and fame hand-in-hand. It was fucking perfect.

But then came the letters of rejection. Not once. Not twice. But three times. The humiliation and disgrace Cloud felt with each rotten love letter nearly got the best of him. On various occasions he considered returning to Nibelheim. Pride and stubbornness wouldn't let him though. After the first rejection, he took up residence in the Slums and found a job instead; determined to enlist in Shinra's great army the next chance he got.

Cloud knew he needed to make this year count. The long winter ahead offered him time to improve on the physical exam and study for the written portion. This was only a minor roadblock, Cloud told himself again and again. By Spring time he was going to make his dream a reality. He had to. The Company guaranteed its soldiers free housing, financial security, and food. It met all of his basic necessities. He was going to be better than all the stupid, immature losers back at home. He was going to make something of himself, damn it.

" _But why…?_ " Mrs. Strife broke up her son's wayward wonderings. A lump appeared visible in her throat. She had trouble accepting her son's absolution. _"Why Shinra?_ "

"What's to understand, Mom? I'm joining the army. That's all there is to it." Cloud slowly pushed the blanket off his shoulders. Standing up, he needed to stretch his legs.

" _If it was a stable job you wanted, they had one at the hotel here_. _So did the convenient store._ "

"Not interested," was all Cloud said.

His jaw danced a bit. He wandered over to a make-shift dummy at the center of his living room. Ms. Tinker followed close behind, her tiny feet tapping against the hard wooden floor.

The dummy was nothing more than an upraised, crossed stick attached to a wooden base, covered with pillows tied together. Cloud took a practice sword with a four-foot-long blade from a wall. In his grip now, he stretched out his arm and flexed his hand. It was a common ritual of his. He needed his body to get accustomed to the weight of steel. The old wooden floor creaked under his weight when he took on an attack stance. He immediately lunged forward and stabbed the dummy a few times, already feeling some of the tension inside him release. Each stab penetrated the exact same mark. Ms. Tinker watched a few pillow feathers glide in the air and pawed at them.

" _I don't understand why it had to be the army or why you had to move miles away from home, let alone, to Midgar_ ," Mrs. Strife persisted and shook her head. " _That city is full of temptations that can corrupt the heart of any precious boy._ "

Cloud stabbed the dummy even harder. It wobbled back and forth violently. Under his breath, he whispered, "I guess you wouldn't understand…"

" _What? Did you say something? Cloud?_ "

"…Nothing, Mom."

Mrs. Strife's hands clasped together. A low sigh dragged out of her lips. " _I really hope you're not risking your life for Tifa, son._ "

"Huh?" At this, Cloud slowly turned away from the dummy to look back at his mother onscreen. He rested the flat side of the blade on his shoulder.

" _I know the two of you were pretty close…_ " Mrs. Strife pointed out. " _I know you've always wanted to impress her. I'm not blind._ "

Cloud stayed quiet.

" _I saw Tifa earlier in the week_ ," Mrs. Strife later revealed. " _She was with that silly man in the red cape. Zangan, you remember, right?_ _I think she's training under him since I saw them at the forest while I gathered wood. Tifa looked well. She approached me and wanted to know how you were doing. In fact, she wants to write to you but I couldn't remember your address at the time._ "

Cloud lowered his gaze. It took him a moment to reply. When he spoke, he avoided eye contact with his mother. "You didn't tell Tifa I'm living in the Slums or where I work, Mom…" A pause. "…Did you?"

" _I told her you were living in Midgar, still working on getting into the army. Why?_ "

Cloud's jaw reset itself. "Don't tell her where I live. In fact, don't say anything. If she asks about an address, just tell her I can't accept any letters right now."

His mother slowly nodded in compliance. However, her brows furrowed as she leaned closer to the screen. The camera briefly blurred until it adjusted to her features. " _Cloud… Are you all right? What's wrong, baby?_ "

"…Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?"

" _You sound… off._ "

Cloud kept quiet after that. He refused to speak the words that ravaged his mind. In truth, though… he loathed his current surroundings. He was embarrassed by them and didn't want Tifa to know about his situation. Not the rejection letters. And certainly not his living conditions. Each time he set foot in this apartment he wanted to burn everything. No amount of soap and filtered water could ever make him feel clean. He felt dirty by simply breathing the air.

And yet this was his home. _El Palacio,_ at the 332nd Street of Sector 7.

The discarded bowls of ready-made Wutai noodles sat unclean and stacked in his kitchen sink. Roaches scurried up the walls. At the corner of the small space was a worn-out mattress: his bedroom. Because Cloud couldn't afford any furniture it rested flat on the floor. A few yellowish stains from the previous owner remained visible. No matter how many times Cloud hand washed the mattress it wasn't enough. Meanwhile, at the opposite end of the apartment was a small bathroom with cracked walls. There was the standard iron-cast tub with plastic curtain and the toilet that constantly made an irritating garbled sound late at night. As for the kitchen area next to the bathroom, it consisted only of a stove, mini-fridge, and a sink that constantly leaked. There was no table or counter space. Cloud dined on the ground and usually took a spot by the vintage-looking space heater for warmth. The cracks on the walls and ceiling did little to keep out the frigid cold air though; likewise, the tiny window nearby. That window offered the only view to the outside world. Even so, it showed just the bricked wall of the adjacent apartment building next door. Pathetic.

Cloud bit on his lower lip. He suffered the same fate as the other country boys who left the rural life for the big bad city. Housing in the Slums offered little for a young man like him. But it was all he could afford. Again and again, Cloud reminded himself this was only _temporary_.

"There's nothing wrong, Mom," Cloud reassured her again. At this point, he abandoned the dummy and flung the practice sword directly dead center into its chest. Ms. Tinker stayed behind and played with more feathers. Returning to his previous spot by the laptop, Cloud sat cross-legged on the floor again. "I'm fine. I just want to be left alone until the try-outs are done. Gotta keep focus."

Mrs. Strife slowly nodded back. Cloud hoped this was enough to end this conversation. The topic of Tifa had always been a sensitive subject. Any discussion of her left him feeling raw. There was too much history between them, too many complicated feelings he had toward the girl back home. On some days it was adoration and longing. On others it was guilt and resentment. Cloud loved her. And he hated her.

That solemn expression from before returned on his mother's face the longer the silence between them dragged on. Her fingers wrapped themselves around her cup of tea again. " _Cloud. If you want to talk about anything I'm here. You know? I'll always be your mother, no matter how many birthdays pass._ "

He looked at her, a bit caught off guard by her words.

" _I wish you would come home, son…_ "

"I'm already home," Cloud quietly corrected her.

" _But that's not home. Home is here. That place is dangerous._ "

Cloud produced a low throaty sound that resembled something of a grunt. This was quickly becoming a broken record. Granted, she was right, especially with all the deaths that surfaced across Midgar. On days like this he considered moving elsewhere, maybe to a quieter place. Determination, a lack of proper finances, and a fascination with an aggressive environment, though, kept him in Midgar City. As for coming home… that was out of the question. Nibelheim harbored too many painful memories.

" _Are you sure, you're okay?_ " his mother persisted, " _Look, if this has anything to do with Tifa…_ "

Cloud growled now. "Mom, this has nothing to do with her. _Okay?_ Leave it alone. Please?"

It was definitely time to sign off now. A quick glance at the laptop's clock and Cloud realized he needed to get ready for work. He moved the onscreen cursor to close a few windows still active. The corpse's image popped though when he accidentally clicked on the maximize button.

" _Cloud?_ " Mrs. Strife leaned closer to the screen again. She didn't blink. " _Are you sure you're okay?_ "

Another train passed over his building. The paper-thin walls of Cloud's apartment violently shook. Ms. Tinker whined. Cloud said nothing and merely looked at his mother onscreen. Then he glanced at the image of the dead man. It continued smiling back at him, as if in mockery.

" _Ever since the accident in Mt. Nibel_ …" Mrs. Strife noted very quietly. " _Things have… been different. Things have changed._ You _have changed._ "

Cloud felt nauseous just looking at corpse next to his mother. And yet, he wondered how a man who had died so horrifically could somehow find happiness at the very end. It was as if the dead man found the answer he sought his whole life. He'd take that revelation to the grave. It disappointed Cloud somehow. Finding happiness in this world was hard. According to the dead man smiling back to him, it also came at a great price.

" _Is that the real reason why you left, Cloud?_ " his mother resumed. " _Is that why you refuse to come back home? Because of what happened in Mt. Nibel...?_ "

Again, Cloud glanced at the time on the lower right-hand corner of his laptop. He was desperate to leave this conversation now. "Listen, Mom, I gotta go. I'm pulling an evening shift and my coworkers want to take me out for my birthday tonight. I'll talk to you next weekend."

Mrs. Strife never got a chance to reply. Her son signed off from their chatroom and immediately snapped the laptop shut. Cloud slid the portable device across the floor, pushing it as far away from him as possible. He didn't want to be near it right now.

Cloud already knew what his mother really wanted to say. Through her wandering blue eyes, Mrs. Strife wanted to know what happened to her precious little boy; the boy she knew before he became an emotionally distressed youth with bloody knuckles, an attitude problem, and a bad reputation in the village. With legs still crossed, the weary teenager sat within the darkness of his tiny apartment. He couldn't give his mother the answers right now. Someday he would. Maybe. But definitely not today.

Cloud intently listened to the sound of the train pass by. Ms. Tinker rose on her hind legs and barked. A cockroach, meanwhile, crawled next to Cloud. It minded its own business, exploring the space between his feet at first. Its long antennas waved back and forth. Searching. It changed direction and seemed attracted to the box of cookies nearby. Its wings fluttered with a _ra-ta-ta_ sound. It looked ready to take flight. Cloud made a face. Its very existence bothered him. With a clenched fist, he smashed the critter in one blow. When he opened his hand, the side of the palm felt warm and sticky. Cloud stared at the cockroach's smothered remains.

"Relax, I just put you out of your misery," the boy reassured. He tried to scoff but failed miserably and settled for a long exhale instead. Afterward, he thought about the corpse in the news and quietly asked the dead roach on his hand, "…Are you smiling too?"

The walls in his apartment stopped trembling. The train had passed. Getting to his feet, Cloud approached the sink and washed his hands. He felt dirty. Disgusted. Three times he washed his hands until he finally turned off the faucet. He checked the clock posted on the wall nearby. According to the time it was twenty minutes to five in the afternoon. Great. He was going to be late for his train.

With the online conversation now behind him, Cloud quickly removed his current attire and padded barefooted to his bed where a brightly colored uniform waited for him. His initial thought was to burn it, but he suppressed that desire long enough to slip on his socks and pants. That familiar greased-stained smell reached his nostrils. Cloud's lips twisted into a snarl but he protested in silence. His arms slid inside their respective sockets of his bright yellow shirt. As he buttoned it, he paused. A long scar was visible just below his navel point. Cloud stared at it.

The scar spanned across the lower section of his stomach. Forty-seven stitches, Cloud grimly recalled. All of them had been painful. A finger traced over its thin, beveled line while a mental image of falling snow and fierce blue eyes flashed in his mind. Cloud heard a high-pitched howl and suddenly froze. Then he realized the howl came from Ms. Tinker.

The dog whined and yelped. Her tiny paws loudly scraped against a nearby window, begging to be let out. Cloud exhaled. Relieved. His fingers worked the rest of the buttons while he opened the window halfway for Ms. Tinker.

"Go on, you bitch," Cloud teased her.

Ms. Tinker squeezed through the opening and landed on an emergency staircase. Quickly, she scurried down for a day of fun and adventure. Ms. Tinker would find her way back home, Cloud thought, she always did.

The beagle was a stray that liked to tinker with the garbage bags outside the apartment. She followed him everywhere. It must've been the terrible Chocobo Chow smell that initially attracted her to him. Cloud scoffed at the idea. He placed a bowl of water next to the window for Ms. Tinker's return.

Grabbing his coat, Cloud exited through the door. He fetched his apartment keys from a back pocket while he stood in a long narrow hallway with cheap red carpet. Faded, piss-yellow floral wallpaper with random tears and spray-painted words decorated the walls. A few posters and advertisements hung throughout the hallway, including a _LOVELESS_ trailer poster. The dimly lit corridor itself emitted a funny smell. At least there was power. Unlike many places in the Slums, El Palacio came equipped with a workable generator. It produced enough electricity to keep the small hallways and rooms lit. There was even a freight elevator, large enough to fit at least ten people.

The next door neighbors continued to moan while a shouting match had erupted at the other end of the hallway. Glass broke. Cloud ignored the distractions and struggled with his lock. The damn metal plates weren't lined correctly. _Again_. It was due to the building's horrible foundation, which constantly shifted and caused all the doorframes to misalign. As Cloud cursed and battled with his door, he heard the freight elevator at the middle the hallway rise. He hoped it wasn't Mr. Butch; the apartment's landlord.

That prick had threatened to increase his rent due to Ms. Tinker. The dog was _susceptible to property damage_ , Mr. Butch once claimed. In this shithole? Riiiiight. Hardly anyone liked the guy, including his own wife. Cloud had other reasons to keep his distance from him. Mr. Butch gave off a funny vibe.

Cloud placed a hand on the doorknob and grunted as he slightly lifted up the whole door with it. The plates briefly aligned. Quickly inserting his key, he rotated the inner mechanism in place with a satisfying _click_ sound. Bingo. Cloud did an about-face and jetted for the stairs. Unfortunately, the longwinded staircase wrapped around the path of the elevator. Looking directly down the elevator's vertical channel, Cloud discovered a lanky man with a couple strands of hair on his shiny head. The forty-something male stood alone with crossed arms while the elevator ascended.

Mr. Butch.

Just his luck. Cloud glowered at the sight of him. There was no way around this guy. Unless he retreated back to his room and used the emergency stairs, he had no choice but to go down and briefly cross paths with Mr. Butch. Cloud held his breath. Then he dashed down the stairs, ignoring the fact he resided on the fifth floor and had a long ways down.

"Cloud!" Mr. Butch suddenly yelled when he noticed a familiar blond-haired boy pass by the elevator's gated walls. "I need to talk to you right now."

Breathless, Cloud continued running down the steps. He acted oblivious. "Oh hiya, Mr. Butch. Good evening. Lookin' good. Nice to see you. Gotta go. Need to catch my train. Goodbye. See you."

"You little shit! Get back here!" Mr. Butch smashed on a few buttons to stop the elevator. The clunky device jerked. "Cloud, I'm talking to you! That stupid dog of yours! No dogs are allowed in this building!"

Cloud hurried to the bottom levels. "Can't hear you, Mr. Butch. Talk later!"

By the time he reached ground floor, Cloud heard all sorts of venomous words echo back to him from the elevator. Even if Mr. Butch forced the elevator to go down, at this point it was too late. Cloud was in the clear. A few residents popped out of their apartments to hear what the commotion was about. One elderly lady giggled and blushed as Cloud dashed past her. The boy made it out of the complex through a double set of doors. He had successfully evaded the wrath of the landlord. Crisis averted. For now.

Cloud now rushed to the train station, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He passed the beggars and dealers in his block. He ignored the whore who lifted up her ragged skirt and showcased her bushy mound. Today was his seventeenth birthday and, by God, he would get through this day with minimum hassle. Freaky corpses, landlords, and weirdoes be damned.


	4. City Woes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Life in the big bad city sucks. Life in Chocobo Chow sucks even more._

**CHAPTER 3: City Woes ******

The Plate of Midgar City. Or _a technological pizza_ as some called it due to its round landscape with eight triangular divisions. The giant metal disc hovered above the Slums and effectively cut off the clear blue sky from the underworld residents. The underworld had become a dark place because of it. From his apartment, Cloud could never see the blood-red dot that rose during early morning hours or the white eye that appeared among a starry black night. Instead, Cloud saw an assortment of metal beams, cables, concrete, and pillars any time he looked up. As crappy as his job had been so far, it at least provided him a legitimate reason to go up to the Plate and view the sky. The trips topside maintained his sanity.

Slipping inside the train's closing doors, Cloud barely made it on time. He took a deep breath and pushed past the other commuters in search of an empty seat. It was a packed train. Not really a surprise for the five o'clock rush hour. Commute to the Plate usually took a good fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, it posed a constant challenge here in the Slums.

There were too many people. Too many noises. Too many potential threats. Cloud had to keep an alert eye on his person. Muggers, drugs, and prostitution… they were the norms of the underworld. Any man dressed in a work uniform served as a potential target. It was because of this Cloud wore a heavy dark coat over his Chocobo Chow uniform every day and wrapped layers of masked tape around his wrist's barcode tattoo. Cyber muggers were a rampant problem in the city. The clever thieves used portable scanners with a built-in decipher code. They'd scan the wrist and transfer their victim's Gil to an untraceable account. Anyone's accounts and lifesavings were at risk with just a quick scan of a tattoo.

" _Welcome to the future of Midgar City_ ," a calm female's voice broadcasted from a clear flat-screen above Cloud's head. " _Take a peek into the bright horizon with Shinra's first line of aerial production, slated for a next year release._ "

Images of Shinra Inc.'s latest design vehicles appeared. The models were sleek and smooth; all constructed of gloss-painted steel.

Already, Cloud heard rumors about a big move for Chocobo Chow. The powers-that-be were scoping out a high cubicle spot in Twenty-First Street. They wanted to be ready to serve the first aerial customers. It sounded crazy. And depressing. Even as Cloud commuted with the people in the sky and witnessed these marvelous inventions firsthand, he was still a lowly employee who resided in the dirt. He could never be a part of this world, not until he made it into the army. Into the Tsviets.

" _It's time to take to the heavens_ ," the advertisement concluded with a three-beat chime.

Cloud spotted a window seat at the very back of the train. A young man donned in a black jacket and leather pants stood in the way. His face was decked out with metal studs. He sported a bizarre, yet stylish haircut. With a PHS in hand, the sharply dressed man was in the middle of passing out business cards to a group of giggling women until he noticed Cloud. He chuckled at the sight of the Chocobo Chow badge that peeked out of his coat. The blond-haired teenager withdrew a curse word and covered it. Then he moved around him.

There were a lotta guys like this in the city. Usually stationed at corners of busy streets in downtown Midgar, they wore extravagant high-fashioned attire and expensive accessories. The pretty boys handed out cards to women. Cloud wondered what sort of funny business they were affiliated with. Club promoters? Musicians? Whores?

Cloud finally claimed his seat and exhaled through his mouth. Next to him was a wrinkle-faced, lanky businessman with a cheap suit, powerful cologne, and a weirdly shaped moustache. His thick-framed glasses amplified the size of his eyes, making them as big and lifeless as a bug's. The old man gave the boy a look-over.

Not in the mood for casual conversation of any kind, Cloud slipped on a pair of ear buds from his coat and turned on his PHS. The hypnotic steady beats of ambience music pumped loudly into his ears. It relaxed him during his commutes but also blocked off all the people who begged him for Gil or wanted to sell him their stolen goods. Cloud didn't bother to lower his volume when the businessman suddenly leaned closer to whisper something to him. He already knew what he wanted. Sometimes playing deaf to the world presented the most logical solution.

As the train started its ascent and followed the long spiraled tracks up to the Plate's surface, a familiar but unwanted sensation occurred. Cloud's stomach stirred. It initially started from a small pressure point in his belly. As the walls of the train and seat rattled nonstop, though, his upper abdominal muscles contracted. Cloud's heart committed to a fast-paced tempo. The air felt warmer. He took a deep swallow and held his breath. Cloud could hear the thumping sounds of his heart through both ears. Closing his eyes, the boy bent forward to relieve some of the pressure in his stomach. His hands clenched onto the knees. The nausea only worsened.

After all these years, Cloud still suffered from motion sickness. Kinetosis, they called it. He couldn't ride on a Chocobo as a kid because of it. It was also to blame for his failure in the physical exam this past summer. Shoved inside a helicopter simulator with the rest of the other applicants, he'd puked all over them, including the flight instructor. It was a tragic nightmare that earned him a spot in the red list. Unfortunately, Cloud had to overcome this challenge if he wanted to enlist in Shinra's army. Transportation in Midgar was also a necessity. Nothing was within walking distance in a place like this.

Withdrawing a bottle of pills from his coat's pocket, Cloud popped one into his mouth. They weren't the best medication in the world but they were better than none. Cloud made a face as he swallowed it. The acidic flavor of the pill left behind a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. Nearly vomiting from it, Cloud quickly withdrew a fat stick of bubble gum. He chewed on it. Eventually the flavor of watermelon soaked across the surface of his tongue.

Feeling slightly better, Cloud stared out his window to find a horizon line. A physician once told him motion sickness was nothing more than the body's desire to re-orient its inner sense of balance. Uh. Sure. Whatever… Looking out the glass, Cloud tried to _re-orient his inner sense of balance_ by taking in the scenery. It made him feel worse in other ways though.

Observed from afar, the Slum's decaying condition became more obvious to him. The majority of the buildings lacked roofs. Their crumbling walls revealed rusted metal beams, an assortment of crudely painted words, and stray bullet holes. At a distance, there stood the silhouette of a Church. A chunk of its roof had collapsed inward. The metal cross on top slightly bent to the side. Hard to believe anyone could still practice an ounce of faith in this hellhole, Cloud thought. The underworld festered with all sorts of vices in an attempt to survive. It didn't leave much room for faith.

When the train rode past Sector 6 of the Slums, Wall Market came into view. It was a popular hotspot. Cloud enjoyed the Wutai noodles and received his motion sickness pills from the Pharmacy there. However, he kept his visits to Wall Market to a minimum. A lot of shady activities occurred there. It was home to Honey Bee Inn, a notorious cozy spot for paid sex. Drug deals also went down with the occasional gun shoot-outs.

The man responsible for the illegal shit-fest was a mafia boss named Don Corneo. Not much was known about him, except that he professed a special love for beautiful women, hard liquor, and torture chambers. Sex, drugs, and violence were definitely his cup of tea.

The longer Cloud viewed the outside scenery the more bitter he had become. Despair and corruption hid at every corner of the underworld. As the train rose higher and higher, he wanted to escape it all. He vowed he'd make it into the army and someday forget this dreadful place.

On the window's reflection, Cloud saw the old businessman next to him again. A briefcase rested over his lap now. It hid a hand that jerked up and down between the old man's legs. Cloud's lips shaped into a sneer. This man was old enough to be his father. But that didn't stop the pervert from expressing sexual interest in the teenager.

When Cloud turned back to glare at him, the businessman flicked out his tongue. He made perverse licking motions with it. Wild bug-like eyes stared at Cloud and never blinked. The pervert lifted his briefcase high enough to offer a full view of a moist, aged cock; as if the sight of it would inspire the boy to rest his head on the lap and blow him. Cloud refrained from punching the old man. Instead, he blew up a very large bubble from his wad of gum and popped it right in front of his face. Then he looked out the window again and turned up the ambient music in his PHS.

Normally, Cloud carried a concealed swift-blade and flashed it to idiots like this. One didn't survive the Slums without proper protection. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten his knife today in his haste to catch the train. Cloud ignored whatever verbal nonsense the old man responded with and listened to his music on full blast.

It was a common experience for him during late afternoon commute hours. Both the underworld and the Plate thrived in the perversion of the youth. For a bright-eyed boy like Cloud, he represented a desired commodity due to his physique and age. His soft, nearly feminine features served as the perfect embodiment of man and woman wrapped into one. Or as one crude man colorfully pointed out to him last week: _a severely fuckable pretty boy_. The price for his body and youth could easily afford him an upscale apartment on the Plate. Or so the perverts claimed. Cloud wasn't sure whether to feel appalled or intrigued by this.

Within fifteen minutes, the train reached the end of the long black tunnel. He finally arrived topside. The late afternoon sky immediately lit up the train with a natural orange light. Even when the hours drew closer to the evening, steel walls gleamed under the setting sun's intensity. Cloud blinked several times and had to readjust his eyes to the light.

He'd been in the darkness for too long. His skin itched and crawled with Goosebumps in reaction to the sun's warm rays. The darkness of the Slums had been lifted at last. A sky consumed by colors of blues and soft oranges welcomed him. The proud city of Midgar now flashed by Cloud's window; complete with a sea of finely attired citizens and flashy advertisements. No more make-shift, corroded buildings. No more filth-crusted faces. No more discarded trash in the streets that reeked of spoiled and consumed goods. He'd entered the city in the sky at last.

" _Soon arriving at the Third Sector,_ " the train operator announced over the intercom, " _Please collect your belongings and watch your step._ "

Cloud stopped chewing on his gum when he caught sight of Shinra's main company complex. It was further north at the center of the metropolis. In his mind he saw himself approach the long path of concrete steps that led up to its entrance. He imagined the rush of cool, air-conditioned air hit his face when the glassed doors automatically parted for him. The interior lights were bright. Reflections and lights haunted metal pillars. In his head, a group of elite soldiers appeared before him. They stood in a straight line, ready to greet their new member. Cloud's projected image smiled at them.

The train finally pulled to its first stop. Cloud lurched forward in his seat. When he saw a group of people quickly shuffle out, he rose from his seat to follow. It was time to go.

Cloud passed by the pervert on his way to the exit doors. The businessman hadn't looked away. His hand stayed out of public view but moved rapid. Cloud growled when a line of white abruptly squirted in the air. A few drops landed on the edge of his coat. Irritated, Cloud reacted by punching the old man on the face. A bone cracked and the nose burst with red. Cloud hurried to the exit before a Shinra infantryman arrived to investigate the screams.

His dream had to wait. Tonight, he had burgers to flip, tables to wipe, and people to deal with.

* * *

Saturday's crowd was surprisingly not as demanding and annoying like yesterday's bunch. While many came, it was not as packed like the previous Saturdays. That had much to do with the gruesome discovery in the museum earlier today. In light of the disturbing news, many customers wore protective face-masks to ward off the alleged bioweapon virus or simply stayed home. A few families kept together and whispered about the corpse. They shook their heads in fear.

Aside from a slightly tensed atmosphere, it was still a usual workday in Chocobo Chow. There was puke on a booth that required cleaning and a fight between two twelve-year-old kids had broken out. Their parents eventually intervened but they also needed to be broken up shortly after. And that was just the beginning of Cloud's shift.

Because he'd been rotated to work as cashier tonight, his life had been threatened at least three times. People didn't take too kindly to being asked by a teenager to show their barcode and pay for their meals. They also expected immediate results within seconds of placing their orders, as if Cloud had any control over that from his current station. Regardless of all this, he represented the face of Chocobo Chow from behind the register. He was the first face people saw when they entered the establishment. Thus, faking a smile, Cloud grimly recalled his small insignificant role in the universe. So long as he donned this atrocious uniform he had to play the part of _happy_ employee.

"Welcome to Chocobo Chow. Wark. Wark. Wark. How can I serve you today? Would you like to hear about our specials?" Cloud greeted to every man, woman, and child that stepped up to his counter.

At least there was tonight's birthday event to look forward to. Cloud still had no idea what to expect. He regretted not bringing an extra pair of clothes to change into. However, it was very likely his coworkers would take him out for a movie or a quick drink at the Hobgoblins like last year. It wasn't a big deal.

Thankfully, Mr. Mukki remained unaware of the birthday celebration tonight. There'd be no unwanted party crashers. The flamboyant manager did leave a present in Cloud's locker though. When he clocked into work and put away his coat, there was a wrapped gift on the top shelf. He had opened it and quickly frowned. The present was a heart-shaped frame with a picture of Mr. Mukki's grinning face. A lipstick imprint appeared on the frame's glass. Fucking unbelievable.

At around seven-thirty, Cloud went outside to the playground and took his break. The air had become chilly. Thick, dark clouds gathered across a starless night sky with a moon half awake. A fresh smell of incoming rain lingered heavy in the air. Due to the Plate's high attitude, the clash of warm-to-sudden-cool temperatures drew a light mist. It settled over the glossy, light-reflected streets of Midgar City. Distant pillars of structured metals were reduced to mere silhouettes.

Cloud wore his coat over the Chocobo Chow uniform. He had replaced the goofy hat with his ash gray beanie. Having been born and raised in the snow, the cold air didn't bother him at all. However, he absolutely hated being seen in public with his retarded uniform on, even at work.

A multi-colored spinner and Chocobo spring riders flanked his sides while the large Chocobo animatronic stood a few feet away, overlooking the driveway. Through the large glass wall that divided the outdoor playground from the main eating area, the teenager could see directly into the restaurant. Sitting on a swing, Cloud sat alone at the outdoor playground. All of the rotten brats had retreated indoors on account of the cold and looming rain. Enjoying this moment of peaceful solitude, he heard only the sounds of rushing cars and distant sirens.

Among the colorful landscape of neon-lights and steam pipes, Cloud noticed a number of disc-shaped sentries in Twenty-First Street. These small robots hovered in the air and patrolled the restaurant's intersecting streets. Some went as high as the skyscrapers' full heights. Their blue multi-beams swayed back and forth, searching for anything amiss. No doubt their presence was in reaction to today's grisly discovery at the museum. Cloud eventually ignored them, however, and took a sip of his lukewarm coffee. His other hand held a copy of _The Art of War: Ancient Teachings of the Blade_.

Cloud's ears were plugged and tuned in to the sounds of electric reggae music from his PHS while he read one passage after another. There were fifty chapters but he was already on chapter forty-five. Raised in a rural community with no television and no friends, there wasn't much to do in a sleepy town like Nibelheim outside of setting up traps for potential predators, shoveling snow, and reading.

Cloud had already gone through hundreds of books; they became his personal escape. Stories of heroism and mystery stood as his personal preferences. Horror and academic textbooks, on the other hand, usually collected dust on the shelves. Unfortunately, the book Cloud currently read was a strictly by-the-numbers topic. It had been recommended material for his upcoming exam.

The exam…

There was much to cover in terms of terminology, mandatory regulations, and comprehensive knowledge. A desolate place like Nibelheim had little need for high advanced formulas, theoretical concepts related to the universe, and psychological-based speculations. Cloud grew up ignorant of the modern citizen's topics. Thankfully, he saved enough Gil this year to enroll in a class at the Slums' library. Intended for drop-outs and immigrants, it helped young men like him earn a general education certificate. They were boring as hell, though. Half the time Cloud struggled to stay awake.

As for Shinra's physical exam, that was the area he needed most work on. His motion sickness proved a liability, likewise his scrawny frame. Cloud needed to pack on more pounds and keep up with his motion sickness pills. All was not lost though. While he did terrible with the physical requirements, he did excel in one area: swordsmanship.

Reading hadn't been the only activity he'd taken up as a kid. His mother had personally seen to that.

Cloud was in the middle of a sentence when the sound of a very loud, out-of-pitched melody interrupted him. His eyes quickly shot up. A brightly colored Chocobo Chow food truck turned a corner on the street and nearly crashed into a pole. On its roof, an oversized Chocobo head on a metal spring wobbled back and forth. Thankfully, the truck veered left just in time and pulled into the parking lot without a scratch. At the driver's helm was a familiar face: Biggs.

Wedge's best friend looked worse for wear. Cloud suspected tonight's deliveries had been a pain in the ass. There were too many take-out orders tonight on account of the depressing, cold weather. That and many people chose to stay home after news of the latest corpse.

Cloud wouldn't have minded the task of being Chocobo Chow's delivery man. It would give him an excuse to get out of the restaurant and explore Midgar City. Unfortunately, his motion sickness and lack of a driver's license prevented him from taking the job. As Biggs maneuvered the vehicle to a tight-fitting parking space, Cloud took off his earphones. He waited for the other teenager to exit the vehicle before nodding a silent 'hello' to him.

"Fuuuuck me," Biggs spat and removed his Chocobo Chow hat. He tossed it in the air and didn't care where it landed. "Downtown is a cluster-fuck, man. I was stuck in traffic for over thirty minutes. Some old lady got pissed by the wait and didn't pay me. Another jerk ran off with the food. Nobody tipped either." Biggs occupied the empty swing next to Cloud and slouched in it. "It's a fucking mess tonight."

Cloud cocked a brow. Traffic in Midgar was usually okay, even during weekends. It never got bad unless there was a major public event called by President Shinra or a city-wide emergency. Curious, he asked, "What happened?"

"You know about the dead body they found today at the museum?"

"What about it?"

"It's a fucking warzone there. Lotta roads at the Entertainment District have been blocked off."

Cloud's mouth partly dropped. Confused, he waited for Biggs to elaborate.

"The museum was lit up with sirens, man. I saw a lot of Shinra IM trucks and ambulances at the scene while I took a detour," Biggs soon revealed, "Some dark, bald-headed guy with sunglasses was there too. I think he was a _Turk_. He stood at a check point and scanned and verified IDs. It's why I was so damn late on my deliveries. I swear; I nearly pissed my pants. The Turks don't fuck around."

Cloud set the book down on his lap, interested in this shocking turn of events. So far, Shin-Ra News made no mention of the ID checks. All evening long there'd been the usual line-up of sitcoms. Even now, as Cloud glimpsed at the translucent flat-screens that floated above the restaurant's seating area, he saw only popular cartoons and commercials. No news on the traffic lock-up.

The blond-haired teen scooted forward in his swing and now faced Biggs' direction. "Are you serious? Didn't the Turks already remove the body earlier today? Why were they still there?"

"I don't know," Biggs responded and shook his head. "Like I said, it's a warzone at the museum. But it may have something to do with the crazy shit I heard while I was waiting at a checkpoint."

"Crazy shit? What crazy shit?"

"Some people at the checkpoint with me claimed they heard gunshots coming from the museum."

" _What?_ "

"Yeah." Biggs paused when a sentry floated above their heads. The disc's beams briefly showered over them. It scanned their profiles for only a second. Then it moved on. Biggs watched it fly away and whispered, "One guy even said he saw a Tsviet enter the museum."

From where he sat, Cloud shifted his focus to the direction of the museum. He saw a few helicopters circle the skies. Confused, he asked, "Why would a Tsviet be there?"

"Dunno. Like I said, it's what I heard."

"A Tsviet… at the museum?" Cloud allowed himself a moment to soak in this information. It sounded like a bogus claim. The Tsviets rarely appeared in public. Shinra's elite group of soldiers was assigned only to top-class missions. All low standard affairs were left to the IMs.

Biggs pursed his lips and appeared deep in thought as well. He slowly swung back and forth in his chained seat. Quietly, he remarked, "Maybe it really _is_ a bioweapon caused by Wutai rebels. Why else would someone hang the body like that? It's to send a message."

"You think so?"

"Yea. It has to be, man. Maybe the Turks are in downtown right now because they're trying to flush the rebels out. It'd explain the gunshots and why a Tsviet was in the area."

"Hm. No wonder Shinra wants to send more troops to Wutai this year." Cloud scratched the bottom of his chin. He felt tiny, oddly placed stubbles there and mildly reminded himself to shave soon. "It's kinda weird though. Wutai rebels manufacturing viruses? Wutai always struck me as a country that fought their battles in a more traditional sense…"

"I know, right? I never figured their country was into biological warfare shit either. But I guess if they're into it, then we got no choice but to take them out." Biggs shook his head. "Man. These deaths… They've been going on for years now. If it's really a manufactured virus then I hope it's not airborne."

Cloud sipped his coffee and stared out in the distance. His eyes strayed from the helicopters to Shinra's Headquarters.

The Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department, otherwise known as _the Turks_ , resided in the main company's complex. Donning black business suits, they served as President Shinra's investigative unit. Not much was known about the Turks. Their group mostly dwelled within the shadows and underbelly of Midgar City. With the simple flip of a PHS, they could order the destruction of a city or remove a person's entire existence. Nobody fucked with them. A persistent rumor circulated in the streets though: anyone who joined the Turks couldn't leave except in a body-bag.

Cloud wondered who would be crazy enough to join such a crazed organization. Perhaps the pay was really _that_ good?

With the Turks apparently neck-deep in the city's unexplained corpse cases, Cloud wasn't sure whether to feel worried or fascinated. A lingering sense of danger consumed the air. Corpses. Creature sightings. Wutai rebels. The Turks and the Tsviets had their work cut out for them. Cloud wondered if he'd see any action once he was accepted in the army. The thought of it both terrified and excited him.

"What are you reading?" Biggs suddenly asked.

Lost in thought, it took Cloud a moment to realize Biggs had just addressed him. When he finally understood the question he grabbed the book from his lap. "Hm, this? Just a book about swords."

The other boy studied the cover with his eyes. "Ah, that's right. You're enlisting in Shinra's army. Right?"

"I am," Cloud confirmed. He added with an annoyed grunt later, "I'm _trying_ to anyway."

"I heard it's hard to enter the army. Just the infantryman level is hard as balls. A few buddies tried to enlist. It didn't pan out." Biggs stopped swinging when he spotted a pair of attractive ladies pass by. He grinned and winked at them. The girls ignored him but giggled with a blush when they noticed Cloud sitting next to him. Rolling his eyes, Biggs later asked, "I'm guessing you're gonna shoot for the Tsviets too, huh?"

"That's the plan," Cloud replied, completely oblivious to the girls who eyed him as they entered the restaurant. With a small smile, he declared, "I'm gonna shoot my way to the top."

Biggs quickly frowned. "But it's impossible to join them. You have to be… exceptional."

"And you don't think I can be _?_ " Cloud gave out a loud snort when Biggs didn't have a reply.

Just the mention of the Tsviets sent Cloud's mind coiling with erratic and anxious thoughts.

Their faces. Their names. Cloud knew all about them. Several years ago, Shinra introduced the world to the Tsviets: an elite group of warriors that had been genetically modified and endowed with unusual gifts. There was Weiss the Immaculate, Nero the Sable, and Rosso the Crimson. The latest recruits who joined the group were Azul the Cerulean and Shelke the Transparent, their youngest member. Together, they possessed extraordinary strengths and abilities, all thanks to the special engineering teams from Shinra's Science Department.

The architect behind it all was Dr. Hollander, some fifty-six-year-old chubby man with a scruffy face who hailed from Banora Village. His group of perfect soldiers took on most of the Shinra's perilous missions. Populations of dangerous predators outside the borders of human towns had been dwindled by half because of them. Even the fabled Behemoths, prehistoric giants that once dominated the lands, had met their match.

Scientists from across the world declared the Tsviets as superior beings. Their existence demonstrated the next stage of human evolution. Spiritual protestors, on the other hand, denounced them as abominations of Gaia and decried the use of genetic engineering. A few of them claimed this was not the first time Shinra's _mad scientists_ had meddled with human life in an attempt to create the perfect soldier. There'd been previous experiments and candidates. They ranged from an army of undead men to striking figures with starry-blue eyes. Or so the stories went.

Some decade or two ago, Shinra's entire science department was wiped out by a great fire. The fire took with it the laboratory's former headman, Dr. Hojo. Only Dr. Hollander survived. No one could explain what caused the fire. Protestors attributed it as a deliberate act against Shinra and its unethical practices.

No matter the debates and questions, the Tsviets remained mankind's most promising children. They served as beckons of light that ushered their species into a new era of human superiority. Cloud Strife aspired to become such a beckon.

"They're the best of the best," Cloud proudly proclaimed, feeling like a ten-year-old boy again. "I heard Weiss the Immaculate has the strength of ten men. His brother is younger than me but can manipulate the elements of shadow. Can you imagine? People with powers like that? It's… incredible."

"Yea, I guess." Biggs slowly swung in his seat. His voice sounded low and distant. "You checked out that website I linked you awhile back, right? _AVALANCHE?_ It's got more information on the Tsviets."

Cloud figured Biggs would bring that website up. The boy hosted a fond fascination toward the occult. He also enjoyed investigating events and mind-numbing discussions, particularly conspiracy theories related to Shinra. Biggs received most of his information from an underground website called _AVALANCHE_. Run by a weird environmental hipster named Fuhito, it was one of the first sites to leak photos of today's corpse.

Fuhito had claimed Shinra already knew the cause of deaths but concealed that knowledge from the general public. Cloud wasn't too keen on this man or his so-called AVALANCHE movement. The majority of Fuhito's posts read like angry rants against Shinra as well as environmental-related sermons. Recycle. Repent. Pray for all sins made against the Planet. That sort of thing. Fuhito's followers consisted of gas-masked individuals who tagged the walls of subways with President Shinra's head on fat dicks and infected people's computers with viruses. It was hard to take them seriously.

"According to Fuhito, the Tsviets receive regular showers of Mako and reside in an underground section of Shinra's complex; the rumored _Mako Zero_ reactor," Biggs disclosed. His eyes wandered to the tall building that stood at the center of Midgar City. "Genetic engineering and Mako consumption… I don't know about you, Cloud, but that sounds dangerous."

"I don't see how. Mako is safe. I mean, look around you." Cloud glanced up at the sky to prove his point. Soft glows of green Mako energy floated across the cloudy sky of Midgar. "We live and breathe this stuff every day. If it was poisonous we'd all be dead by now."

"What about that Mako-related virus that might have killed the guy in the museum? Sure, it could be a bioweapon from Wutai extremists, but maybe the Mako mutated. That's what some AVALANCHE followers think. This virus could very well be the Planet's way of fighting back."

"That's all paranoid hearsay," Cloud shot back, tempted to roll his eyes. "Fact is: no one knows anything about how these people are dying. But Mako itself is safe. Shinra wouldn't expose its greatest soldiers with toxic energy. Right?"

"I guess. It's just …"

"Just what?" Cloud pressed him.

"I dunno. According to Fuhito, the Tsviets aren't the only super soldiers Shinra created. There were others before them, soldiers from a predecessor program. _Powerful_ ones. Perhaps more powerful than the Tsviets themselves. But for some reason, that program was cancelled and…" Biggs stopped himself when he noticed the unconvinced look on Cloud's face. He sighed. "Ah, never mind. It's nothing." He pointed at Cloud's book. "You know how to handle one, by the way?"

"Hm?"

"Swords," Biggs specified. "You know how to handle one?"

"Oh. Um, yea. Been training with the sword since I was a kid."

"For reals?" Biggs' eyes widened, obviously impressed. "I don't know many people who can use a sword. Machine guns are the way to go these days. I'm guessin' your old man taught ya?"

Cloud shook his head. "My mom, actually."

Biggs blinked several times.

"Back home, the Nibel wolves get really aggressive during winter time on account of food scarcity," Cloud explained. "Hunters have to ward them off from the village every year. Nibelheim also has to deal with creatures from the mountains and forest area. My mom had me accompany her on the hunts. She taught me the sword and how to track."

Biggs blew off a whistle. "Whoa. That's cool! Beats my childhood. I learned how to tie my shoe."

The other boy smirked back. As Cloud's eyes fell on his book, his thoughts drifted to his mother.

Cloud was grateful she taught him the blade. He'd taken to it naturally, despite his short size and frail frame. Initially, he thought his mother trained him to keep him outta trouble. And rightly so. A reckless child, Cloud had punched, kicked, smashed, and spat his way up to a very bad reputation in the village. It was an entire childhood consumed by self-hate and rage. His mother helped him channel that anger toward something more productive through the hunts. But Mrs. Strife also wanted her boy to protect himself.

At home it was just the two of them. No father. No extended family. Mom's peculiar ways had made her the black sheep of Nibelheim. They were on their own. Determination and a need to protect her only boy drove Mrs. Strife to teach him the ways of the sword, however. Every winter at least five villagers died to the predators that stalked the land. Cloud nearly joined that number.

Instinctively, the solemn teenager placed a hand on his belly. The years had reduced his scar to a thin line of beveled flesh; a parting gift. Cloud's hand gripped the fabric of his clothes tightly when he recalled the night of a great blizzard.

He was eight at the time. A pack of wolves had infiltrated the village during the winter storm. In a panic, he had retreated to the forest by himself. His mother always warned him never to go alone, yet his fear had gotten the best of him that day. Visibility was low and Cloud remembered the numbness over his body. The snow had rushed down hard; his snot turned to ice. The steel sword in his hand had weighed a ton. _You'll need to build the strength to lift it, silly boy_ , his mother used to tease. He must've wandered in that forest for over an hour. As he had tried to make his way back to the village, though, a giant wolf emerged from the snow storm. Its fur was an ash-gray color; the eyes an ice-blue shade.

It was a giant Alpha male. However, it didn't belong to the Nibel wolf pack. It came from a different breed altogether. His mother called it the _Fenrir_ ; a rogue wolf who had settled in the Nibel area long ago and acquired leadership among the Nibel wolves. Cloud thought it was strange. An outsider? Who was leader of a powerful pack?

Cloud couldn't recall who'd made the first move back then. Him? The beast? It had happened so fast. Details of the battle were blurred by his state of panic. But Cloud remembered drops of blood on the white snow. And the scream. In the snowy haze, he thought he saw his mother with wide-opened eyes and a ready sword.

The elder villagers had long ago dismissed the Fenrir as mere myth. It belonged only to the stories of the old Gods, they claimed. But Mom knew. Mom knew that such a giant beast existed. She just never imagined her boy would become a firsthand witness to its apparition.

Stupid, silly boy, Cloud thought as he sat alongside Biggs. He quickly wanted to cut himself off from the memory. He didn't want to think about the blizzard that brought with it a fiery-eyed beast. Not a day passed when he didn't fear the Fenrir's return; when he'd hear its terrible howl during some deep, cold night. Cloud hoped that night never came.

Despair. It was a promise he never forgot.

"Your mother sounds like a bad-ass," Biggs remarked, interrupting Cloud's thoughts, "And you being a hunter, that's cool too. You probably can adapt to any cold setting. The army will like that."

"Yea, I guess…" Cloud observed the chaotic scene of Twenty-First Street. He saw a handsome young man in a fine suit pass out a business card to a woman. "It's a shame I'm still trying to adapt to _this_ terrain though. Everything here is strange."

"Aren't we all trying to adapt?" Biggs chuckled. "By the way, what about your dad?"

"What about him?"

"Did he help with the hunts?"

"My dad died before I was born."

"Oh…" A pause. "I'm sorry."

"What for? You didn't kill him." Cloud sipped the rest of his coffee in silence. Afterward, he crushed the empty paper cup in one hand and tossed it at a nearby Clean-Up robot. He always hated these types of personal questions. Quickly, he muttered, "We should head inside. My break is over."

"Yea," Biggs agreed. He got up and stretched his legs. "More take-outs for me to deliver, I bet. Thankfully, we got only an hour left before the shift is done. Then it's onto some _serious_ partying."

Nodding back, Cloud was also ready to join in some festivities after work. As he stood and headed for the entry, he noted, "You guys still haven't told me what we're doing tonight or where we're going."

"Pft. Don't worry about it. Telling you would defeat the purpose of the surprise." When he noticed the frown on Cloud's face, Biggs laughed and patted him on the back. "Sheesh, Cloud. Take it easy. Sometimes, you gotta let nature take its natural course and just hold on for the ride."

Cloud made another face. He was incapable of _taking it easy_. His own mother named him _Cloud_ after she noticed he didn't smile much: he frowned. A lot. Cloud had arrived into this world as a bundle of uptight nerves. He rarely cried nor giggled. Nearly every photograph from his childhood revealed a wide-eyed, blond-haired boy who blankly stared at the camera; caught in the middle of some distress or confusion. The whole world posed as a giant puzzle he couldn't figure out. There were days Mrs. Strife teased him. She insisted he was really a paranoid ninety-year-old Gramps trapped inside a kid's body. Whatever.

Both teens headed back inside the restaurant.


	5. Milkshake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Beware ghouls and goblins, Chapter 4 is packed with language and 'mature' talk and content. Trek carefully. Lastly, because Nunchaku (Before Crisis) never had a real name in his Turks bio, I named him 'Kyle' (he's actually hot, heh)._

**CHAPTER 4: Milkshake**

Biggs' news of tonight's happenings at the museum had been shoved aside when Cloud manned the cash register again. Thankfully, it didn't take too long for him to settle back into his work shift and rhythm. A steady flow of incoming customers kept his eyes away from the clock and thinking about his tonight's birthday celebrations. Mr. Mukki stopped by once in a while too. He batted his eyes at Cloud and blew him a birthday kiss. The boy merely rolled his eyes. The oddball manager thankfully returned to his office, no doubt to spy on him through the camera feed.

As time progressed, with Cloud's shift coming closer and closer to an end, the number of newcomers dwindled. By eight-forty, things had slowed down enough for him to catch his breath. He passed the time by completing mundane tasks. First, he assigned all Clean-Up Units to a designated area for maintenance. Then he started the process of restocking items at the counter. As Cloud pulled out a row of plastic cups from a metal cabinet, he looked out at the restaurant's seating area to check if any customers needed assistance.

Surprisingly, the people appeared satisfied. No fights broke out. No bickering. No annoying brats tossing food in the air for the hell of it. Many of them engaged in lively chat. Cloud lowered his gaze whenever he came across couples, though, both the young and the old ones.

Admittedly, he hated the weekends. This was the time of the week when lovers came out in full force. It wasn't so much as their needy demands or obnoxious attitudes that bothered Cloud, but rather, their silly smiles and laughter. Their world was painted with rainbows and butterflies. Heated gazes. Intertwined fingers. Soft whispers. Pressed hot lips. The couples here experienced a close-knit happiness Cloud could only _dream_ of sharing with someone special. One person came to mind.

Tifa's crimson-brown eyes still burned deep into his memory along with a bittersweet longing and frustration. On days like this, Cloud wished Tifa Lockhart never existed.

Suppressing these thoughts, Cloud noticed two boys his age sitting opposite of each other in a booth. They leaned forward in their seats and shared a milkshake together. Talking in hushed tones, Cloud frowned when he saw their feet playfully tap against each other below the table. He tried to look away but continued to watch when one of them removed a sandal. He slid his bare foot up the other's leg. Cloud stood tensed as it settled over the boy's crotch.

Coming from a village like Nibelheim, the concept of guys hooking up with guys still caught Cloud off guard. It was unheard of. All the boys in Nibelheim hyped over the girls. Cloud had never encountered same-sex couples until coming to Midgar.

Granted, taking a piss in the restroom stalls with other boys did present him an awkward moment. But it was a moment shared by many teenaged boys at the mercy of hormones and natural curiosity. The hidden desire to check and compare the cock sizes and funny shapes of other boys often offset social expectations and personal beliefs. It couldn't be helped. The human mind was meant to wander and analyze. But Cloud refused to consider boys as an option. He felt… _off_ about it.

Observing the two teenagers slurp up their milkshake, Cloud's hands now gripped the plastic cups. He didn't understand where his discomfort came from. He saw the smiles on their faces; saw the other boy rub his excited budge against the foot between his legs. The teens sucked on their milkshake with a heated look in their eyes, both hungrily draining the milky-white substance in the glass. Seeing them together like that, reveling in lust and their cream-filled dessert… Cloud was halfway tempted to kick them out of the restaurant out of mere spite. Out of all the couples in here, he hated those two young men most of all. And he couldn't understand why.

The cups in Cloud's hands suddenly slipped between his fingers and scattered to the floor. He growled. "Damn it…"

Behind the counter, Cloud went on his knees and gathered all the plastic cups. He felt stupid for feeling the way he did. His face burned with heat. He was livid. Over what, Cloud didn't know. The spilt cups? His life-sucking job? Those boys? Himself? Life in general? God, he was pathetic and a lost cause, Cloud thought as he collected the cups. A male's voice suddenly addressed him. It came from the other side of the counter.

"Sir? _Excuse me, sir?_ " The voice whined and wasted no time waiting for a response. Instead, the male barked, "I'd like to make a complaint. This food tastes like shit and the blond-haired cutie with the nice ass still won't give me his number or put out. I want that guy fired."

Squatted on the ground, Cloud banged his head from under the marble counter and muttered an obscenity. He instantly recognized the voice. Of all the people to enter the restaurant, he didn't want to see _him_ right now; not in his current awkward, shitty mood. Reluctantly, Cloud rose to his feet. He stifled a sigh.

A young man with short, curly blond hair stood at the other side of the cash register. He wore a short, fur-white coat and light-washed denim jeans that hung dangerously low to his hips. A ring decorated each finger while his neck donned a diamond-studded choker with a chain still attached to it; his personal version of a _necktie_. Oddly enough, the boy had no shoes on. It left the bottoms of his feet dirty and dark. Carrying a pair of silver nunchucks on his metal-studded belt, they dangled and chimed each time he moved.

"Couldn't think of another person to harass today, Kyle?" Cloud asked the new arrival.

"Who better to harass than the birthday guy himself?" the other teenager declared.

Tossing few cups into a nearby trashcan, Cloud found it hard to look at the other boy. It was clear Kyle didn't have any underwear on. Just above his completely hairless groin area was a small tattoo of an up arrow with the words 'this end up'. Pierced pink nipples appeared across his bare chest.

The indecently dressed boy presented a boxed cupcake to Cloud. He slid the vanilla frosted treat across the counter. "Did you think I forgot? You know I wouldn't forget my friend's birthday."

Cloud accepted the gift but tilted his head when he closely surveyed it. He tapped on the box with a finger. "Something tells me this birthday cupcake isn't as _innocent_ as it looks."

Kyle's lips stretched into an easy smile. "Ah, how you know me so well, Cloud. That little baby is loaded with at least three bags of my finest stuff."

"That's what I figured…" Cloud snorted quietly to himself and set the drug-laced cupcake aside.

Kyle was certainly a weird, preppy boy. In the underworld, everyone called him _Nunchaku_ on account of his habit of hitting anyone who pissed him off with nunchucks or using them for hard sex. He resided in the Slums too but was financially well off. Even when Kyle illegally worked the streets as a hustler and dealer on behalf of Don Corneo, a persistent rumor claimed he originated from Bone Village and was the single heir to a very rich family. He had settled in the Slums when he got bored of the pampered life though. Cloud didn't know if the rumor was true; he never asked. The boy's charismatic ways certainly made the claims sound legitimate enough.

The truth of Kyle's origins didn't matter much to the Nibelheim native, especially when the street rat was one of his earlier acquaintances. Cloud had struggled when he first arrived in Midgar. Homeless and tossed aside like the other immigrants, he managed to survive when Kyle took him under his wing. Kyle got him an affordable place. He set up his job interview with Mr. Mukki. Most importantly, he kept the Slums' local gangs and interested pimps away from the _fresh meat_. Cloud often wondered how a boy of similar age could hold so much sway like that.

Despite his young age and chaotic lifestyle, Kyle possessed street smarts and skills to keep him ahead of the game. He knew all the happenings in Midgar City and the Slums; knew all the major players from above and below the Plate. His likeable personality made him the center of attention.

Some part of Cloud resented the fellow blonde for that. Everyone loved Kyle. Nobody could resist him. Either the people wanted to be like him or fuck him. It was why Cloud rarely hung out with his friend. He hated the inevitable comparisons people did whenever they appeared together; _two_ blond-haired boys of similar age. Cloud always fell short on Kyle's level of suave and charm.

Still, as much as Cloud was jealous of his friend, he remained grateful to him. And he honestly dreaded the day when his friend would someday show up naked and dead in some abandoned alleyway. Used up like a ragged doll. Kyle played life too much on the edge. The hard drugs he used, his overly promiscuous nature, and the dangerous people he was associated with made an early departure seemed inevitable, even when the preppy boy casually joked about it.

"Quiet night, eh? Not your usual packed house for a Saturday," Kyle commented as he leaned his backside against the counter and studied the people at the main seating area.

"Haven't you seen the news?" Cloud explained while he readjusted his fluffy Chocobo Chow hat. "Most of our regulars have stayed home. Everyone is scared."

"Well. Not _everyone_ …" Kyle noted; distracted elsewhere.

Sitting at a booth directly across, a mother of two children glared at Kyle. She appeared visibly offended by his provocative clothes and complained to her husband about it. The husband refused to turn around and look at what peeved her. Instead, he continued eating his meal with his back to Kyle.

As the husband ate, the frisky teenager met the woman's gaze. Kyle placed two fingers to his pink lips and slightly spread them apart to create a V-shape. He flicked out a pierced tongue at the empty space in-between. In a suggestive manner, his tongue slowly rolled back and forth in circles. The mother blushed now. She reactively squeezed her inner thighs together and stared at her food while her oblivious husband demanded more fries.

"You're horrible," Cloud declared to Kyle.

"How would you know?" his friend innocently asked and cocked his head back to the Chocobo Chow employee. "You've never been acquainted with my tongue. A shame, that."

"Did I mention you're also gross?"

"It adds to the flavor."

Cloud rolled his eyes. Afterward, he thought about the shoot-out Biggs had mentioned earlier. If anyone knew anything about it, it had to be Kyle. "Do you know what happened at the museum tonight? Something about a shooting?"

Kyle turned his entire body around so that he now faced Cloud. He leaned forward on the counter; not bothered if his low-riding jeans revealed a bit of his ass to the people behind. "Hm, I might. But it's gonna cost you…"

A low growl emitted between Cloud's teeth. He should've known. Nothing came out of the street rat's mouth for free or cheap. Even Don Corneo had to pay for his information. Unfortunately for Cloud, he already knew what Kyle wanted. He shook his head. "Forget it: I'm not going on a date with you…"

"Pft. Figures." Kyle's brows drew low together. "Why do you always have to play hard?"

"Why do you always want to get inside my pants?" Cloud retorted.

"Because it's nice and warm in there. And…" Kyle stood straight. His hand reached out and playfully tapped the Chocobo plush head on Cloud's hat. He watched the ridiculous feature bounce up and down and almost laughed. "…Behind this grease-stained, horrendous looking uniform is a drop-dead gorgeous boy with an incredible body and the prettiest blue eyes I've ever seen."

"But I'm a _guy_ ," Cloud quickly reminded him.

"Yes. Last time I checked, you were."

"And I'm only into women," Cloud also felt the need to clarify.

"Have you ever been with a guy?" Kyle's hand casually pulled on his neck chain while he waited for an answer. When Cloud shook his head, he challenged, "Then how do you know you're _only_ into women?"

Stumped for a moment, Cloud didn't have an immediate response.

He always knew Kyle liked guys. Even when he'd been with plenty of women, men were his preference. He had six boyfriends and a track record of casual flings. For some damn reason, however, Kyle wanted _him_. Cloud had learned to deal with the guy's advances to some capacity. He either downplayed his friend's flirtations or changed the subject.

A sexual relationship with another boy was beyond Cloud's scope. Women already got him off just fine. There was no need to explore anything else beyond that.

"I just _know_ ," Cloud affirmed at last.

"Oh?" Kyle replied; unconvinced. "You do?"

"This is getting to be ridiculous…"

"Ah, don't be that way, Cloud." Kyle's fingers stroked the long metal chain around his neck again. "It's an honest question. I'm just curious why you're dead-set against a date with another guy. It's not like you're obligated to suck each other off. It's a simple date."

Briefly, Cloud observed the two boys in the booth again. They played footsy with each other. The one on the receiving end slightly thrust his hips forward and snickered playfully to his partner. Cloud removed his hat for a second and ruffled his sticky hair. Somehow, the air had gotten hotter.

"Well?" Kyle persisted again.

"Not interested. I'm fine with having just one sausage in my life," Cloud answered back and forced his eyes away from the booth, "…and that would be _mine_."

"Gods, you're a stubborn son-of-a-bitch."

"A part of my charm." Cloud put on his hat again and checked the time. "We done? I got work to do."

Kyle thought a moment. He glanced up at the virtual menu that floated above the counter. "Hm. I can actually go for something."

Clearing his throat, Cloud put forward his best professional voice and acted as if their talk over sausages never happened. "Would you like to hear today's specials? We have a two-for-one combo deal that comes with a medium-size beverage and fries. The Charming Chocobo Deli is a new addition to our menu. I recommend you try the number two, though: the Sassy Salsa Cutie Chocobo Salad."

Pressing a button from his console, Cloud pulled up a large, cylindrical-shaped interface menu. The virtual food list wrapped around his body and spun slowly, featuring images of food. A holograph of a baby Chocobo appeared. It warked triumphantly after Cloud highlighted the selections he just discussed.

Contemplating over his options, Kyle wrapped his pinky around a curly strand of hair. His lithe body shifted to one side. "How about a medium-sized vanilla milkshake? Mm, that sounds nice."

Cloud paused at the request. His eyes strayed to the two boys at the booth with a similar dessert. The odd moment came and went. He pressed the virtual image of Kyle's request; the baby Chocobo warked again. A victory-sounding melody filled the air. Quietly, Cloud notified, "That'll be four-fifty."

Kyle dug into his fur coat's pocket and swiftly pulled out a wad of Gil. "Got change for a hundred, love?"

Cloud sighed while the menu evaporated into tiny pixels and disappeared. "You know we only take twenty Gil or less, smart-ass. In fact, you oughtta be happy we still offer paper Gil transactions at all."

"Yeah, yeah…" Kyle gave a twenty to Cloud. "I keep hoping you'll notice the Gil I make and change your mind. You could earn _so much more_ than this shitty place. Just say the word. I'll set you up."

Cloud didn't doubt he'd make a shit-ton of Gil if he whored the way his friend did or sold the latest drugs in the streets. A lot of men their age already did, both in the Slums and on the Plate. But Cloud couldn't live with himself if he tried that lifestyle. He came to Midgar for a dream; not to sell his flesh and soul. Three years had passed since Kyle presented him several job opportunities. Cloud still didn't regret his decision to choose Mr. Mukki's interview over Don Corneo's.

Accepting the bill, Cloud gave Kyle back his change. He was one of the few people who actually used paper transactions in this digital savvy world. The guy didn't even have a barcode tattoo. It was understandable though. Kyle ran a shady business on the side. He didn't want traces of his income to show up anywhere. Most of the Slums operated the same way, especially in Wall Market.

Kyle plopped himself on the counter and set both elbows on the marble counter while he waited for his shake. The neck chain dangled between his fingers. "Can I ask you a very personal question?"

Cloud sensed doom in the horizon and quickly busied himself with Kyle's dessert. He grabbed a long metal container and activated a machine behind him. It spat out vanilla ice cream. When the vase reached halfway full, he transferred it to a blender machine. Cloud fetched milk from a fridge.

"Cloud…" Kyle started again when the silence between them prevailed for far too long, "…When was the last time you got laid?"

And just like that… _boom._ There it was. Kyle's question fell like a nuclear explosion. It wiped out all sense of normalcy in the room. Cloud nearly dropped the milk but caught it with both hands. A series of strange grunt-like sounds escaped his throat until he finally blurted out, "… _What?_ "

Startled by his yell, a few dining customers from the seating area looked at Cloud direction. The Chocobo Chow employee blinked at them and drew quiet. When they returned to their meals, he blew out air from his lungs; relieved he was no longer the center attention.

"C'mon. Don't be shy." Kyle chortled while Cloud's whole face turned to a warmer color. His hazel eyes stayed on him. In a hushed tone, he repeated: "When was the last time you _fucked_?"

"Shut up," Cloud ordered and turned his back to Kyle. The blender came on with the push of a button. He poured a few ounces of milk into the ice cream mix and kept his hand on the metal vase to keep it from spilling.

"Sorry, you just sound so damn… _tense_. That's all. It's almost like you need to unwind with a good blow-job or somethin'." Kyle instinctively ran a tongue across his lips.

Cloud wanted to explode and disappear into a million pieces. He momentarily increased the speed of the blender. It roared louder.

"I guess it can't be helped…" Kyle went on. Bored, he cocked his head to the side and studied Cloud's back. His eyes fell to the buttocks and stayed there. "I heard about your rejection letter from Shinra last month, by the way. That had to suck. This was your third year trying to enlist with those guys. Right? No wonder you're so uptight these days."

"You hear everything, don't you?" Cloud mumbled after he finally lowered the blender's speed.

"Yea, I do," Kyle confessed with a hearty laugh. "I can't help it. I'm very interested in the life of Cloud Strife. That aside… I don't think that's it. Your pent-up tension, I mean. I think there's something else going on. It's why I asked you before: when was the last time you fucked?"

The machine howled again when Cloud deliberately increased the speed. _This_ was the other reason why he couldn't stick around Kyle for too long.

Aside from the inevitable comparisons, it was impossible to have a decent conversation without it turning into a topic about sex. Cloud kept his back to Kyle while he smoothed out the shake. This entire conversation was stupid. His personal life wasn't up for discussion, especially at a place like Chocobo Chow. Besides, it didn't matter if he hadn't been laid for a long time. It wasn't anyone's business. And it wasn't his fault.

His busy work schedule, class, and preps… All of that occupied Cloud's life right now. There was little time for casual sex these days. Sure, there were the quick-fix options. But Cloud felt too embarrassed to visit the Honey Bee Inn or hire a whore from his block. His mother's voice, the same one who constantly warned him to keep away from those dirty city girls, mentally nagged at him. Cloud had learned to settle for self-administered pleasure. On his days off, he jerked off to a good online porno film. Then he'd wash himself in shame just like all the other boys who felt stupid after masturbation.

The act of lust – it often evoked the most bipolar emotions in people.

Admittedly, Cloud's member had gotten sensitive in the past few weeks. It shot up during the most inconvenient times. Early morning jogs. A trip to the corner store. A pretty smile. Bare wrists. Sex _was_ long overdue, Cloud realized. Maybe tonight he'd find someone to fuck, someone to ease him off the edge a bit. He could get lucky. Hopefully. Perhaps. Maybe. God willing.

The machine beeped twice. Cloud pressed a button. The shake was done. He removed the metal container and poured the vanilla milkshake into a medium-sized Styrofoam cup. After slapping on a lid and inserting a straw, he handed it over to Kyle.

"There. Enjoy your milkshake and mosey along."

"Tryin' to get rid of me that bad, eh?" Kyle didn't move from his spot and kept his elbows on the counter. He smiled. The smile didn't reach his eyes though. "I make you _that_ uncomfortable?"

Returning the milk back to its original place, Cloud said nothing.

His eyes drawn to the shake in his hands now, Kyle nodded his head. "Fair enough. I know I come off strong sometimes. I just get worried about you sometimes. It's easy to forget the joys of life when everything becomes routine. Believe me: I've been there. You won't find happiness if you're always staying within the dotted lines and doing what others expect of ya."

"My coworkers are taking me somewhere tonight for my birthday," Cloud evenly informed and changed the topic. It was all he could do at this point. "You're welcomed to join us."

Across the counter, the other young man suppressed a low chuckle. Kyle knew what Cloud had just done. However, he didn't appear offended and even expected it. The lively blonde took a long sip of his milkshake and shook his head. "I wish I could, Cloud. But I can't. There's someone I have to meet."

"For business?"

"For pleasure," Kyle corrected with a slight blush. He leaned forward again. "I've been tracking this guy. _Forever_. Originally, Don Corneo wanted me to find out where he lived."

"What for?"

"To put a bullet to his head." The teen snickered loudly, as if it were a joke. He soon explained, "Less people are visiting Don Corneo's whores because of this man and his companions. The Don is super pissed. He fucking hates competition. With this guy… _everyone_ wants to meet him."

"He must be really something…" Cloud expressed in a flat voice, not really interested in the topic anymore. Nearly every crush Kyle had was over a pretty boy. There was a new one every week. It annoyed Cloud. He turned his back to Kyle and washed the metal canister in a nearby sink.

"I sincerely doubt he's handsome," Kyle admitted and stroked his straw with two fingers. "He rarely appears in public. His face must be the most horrendous-looking thing ever."

" _Must be?_ What, you haven't seen his face?"

"Nope. No one has. He wears an extremely long, black-lace veil over himself all the time. He's cloaked entirely in black. One person described him as the bride of Death itself. For all we know, he _is_ Death itself. Who dresses like that anyway?"

Disturbed by the description, Cloud stopped washing the cup in his hand and looked back at Kyle. He couldn't understand this fascination with a strange figure in black. Stalking a man dressed as Death's bride sounded like a terrible idea, especially in light of today's events.

"But that's what makes him so damn interesting," Kyle said, as if reading his mind. "He's a genuine freak of nature. Those who've seen the black-veiled man all declare he walks with the grace of an angel." Kyle temporarily pulled out the straw. He opened his mouth. Vanilla ice cream dripped over his wet tongue.

Cloud set the metal container back to its proper place and grabbed a towel. For a moment, he watched Kyle's mouth; watched him gather white drops. Cloud quickly cast his gaze down. He wiped the counter and murmured, "So I guess you're going on a date with this guy tonight…"

"Ha, I wish." Kyle swallowed. Afterward, he inserted the straw into his cup. "Sadly, he is the most elusive figure in this city. Don Corneo's people can't find him. Even my connections can't track him down."

"I find that hard to believe. Especially for you."

Still bent forward across the counter, Kyle idly caressed the base of his milkshake. His hands moved up and down in a lazy rhythm. "The black-veiled man is a very peculiar guy. He sees only the people he chooses to see."

"He still sounds like a weirdo…"

"I know, right? Even his close companions are just as weird as him. People say they have strange eyes. They can see into your soul with them. Or so the stories say."

Cloud observed Kyle's fingers. He stared at their continuous up-and-down hand motions; transfixed. Eventually, he chided in, "Maybe you should keep away from this guy. If he doesn't want to see people outside of his inner circle, then…"

"No way. Tonight, I'm gonna find this man."

"But…"

Kyle took a deep sip of his milkshake again and later pulled out. His tongue swiped along his lower fat lip before he declared, "I'm gonna meet this man. And I'm gonna fuck him good until he lets me see what he's hiding under that veil. I bet he's got an eye missing with maggots and shit coming out. Or maybe his flesh has rotten off from burnt wounds…"

Amused by his words and vivid imagination, Cloud scoffed. He noticed Kyle's mouth again; noticed the drop of vanilla ice cream there. He missed a spot.

"One of my boyfriends claims he'll be out in the city tonight in search of someone fresh." A well-defined smile shaped Kyle's plush lips. "That's what he does, you know. Every once in a while the black-veiled man appears. He tries to find someone who will peak his interest. Then he invites that person to be bound to him. Isn't that romantic?"

Feeling a bit tired, Cloud yawned. He continued wiping the counter and tried not to look at the drop of vanilla on Kyle's lips.

"If word on the street proves true," the enthused teen resumed, "then I want that special person to be _me_. Even if his face terrifies the shit out of me, it'd be the experience of a lifetime."

Kyle was hopeless at times. Once the fool made up his mind about something, talking any sense to him proved pointless. Cloud eventually shrugged his shoulders and conceded. "Whatever. You can't say I didn't warn you. Just… take it easy, okay?"

Noting the genuine concern in Cloud's voice, a pinkish color spread across Kyle's cheeks. "You're always looking after me. Aren't you? Makes me wonder why you aren't my boyfriend."

"Because I don't eat sausage," Cloud recalled for him. He wiped the area in front of Kyle. His voice sounded low and husky when he said, "You don't know this guy. Be careful tonight. I'll beat the crap out of him if he hurts you. Then I'll beat the crap out of _you_ for being an idiot."

The smile on Kyle's face turned to a toothy grin. Quickly, he leaned forward across the counter and planted a wet kiss on Cloud's mouth. It lasted only a second. Kyle pulled back before the other boy could react to it. He looked down at his milkshake afterward. "Hm, this shit actually tastes good…"

The white dot on Kyle's lips was gone now.

On the other side of the counter, Cloud abruptly stood at full height. His hand reactively wanted to touch the moist spot Kyle left behind. He decided against it. Cloud didn't want to draw attention to the counter. His eyes scanned the restaurant. He hoped none of the customers saw what just happened. Thankfully, no one did. Except the two boys in the booth. They sat on the same side now. Both looked back at him with amused expressions on their faces. They turned away a second later and exchanged a heated kiss.

"Have you ever tried the vanilla milkshake before?" the other blonde curiously asked.

Cloud took a step away from the counter but closely observed Kyle. The laid-back teenager smiled at him. Then he pushed the straw deep into his mouth. Soft pink lips wrapped around the thin piece of plastic. Kyle's hands stayed at the base of the cup while he swallowed.

"They're really good," Kyle commended in between sips. Each time he drank, his throat's apple bobbed. It was a smooth, steady rhythm. "I've had plenty of them."

The restaurant's cheery music continued to play in the background while Cloud watched thick loads of vanilla stream down Kyle's throat. Pink lips squeezed the straw harder. They produced quiet slurping noises. Cloud gripped the towel in his hands tighter.

Moments later, Kyle's mouth pulled out with a loud smack-like sound. A bit of ice cream squirted out. It slowly dripped down the straw's side. Kyle exhaled. He'd been holding his breath the entire time. His tongue suddenly lashed out. The slithery muscle slid up and down the length of the straw. Eagerly, he lapped up the chunky white drops. His pierced tongue flicked at the top end of the straw. Kyle paused from his current actions. Hazel eyes tilted up at Cloud.

Cloud hadn't moved from his spot.

A satisfied Kyle wiped his mouth with a finger. Shortly after, he confessed, "Chocolate, Strawberry, and Vanilla are my favorite. I just love the flavor of a good milkshake. Don't you?"

Cloud wiped his sweaty palms on the towel. As he listened to Kyle ramble on about milkshakes, he knew this had nothing to do with milkshakes.

"I love the feel of ice cream sliding down my throat," Kyle said. Trimmed nails glided along the body of his milkshake's bulky container. "So smooth. So milky. I can drink it up all day; fill my belly with it."

Silently, Cloud watched Kyle's hands. They fondled and explored the plastic texture of his medium-size foam cup. A part of Cloud wanted to kill the street rat right now. He imagined popping his balls and tossing him off the Plate. Anything to shut him up. But there was something else that lingered beneath this initial animosity. Even as Cloud struggled to understand what it was, a warm sensation crawled down the pit of his stomach.

The air grew hotter. Observing Kyle's lips, Cloud found himself imagining it filled with clumps of rich, sugary milk. The corners of those pretty, plush lips leaked with white lines. He thought about Kyle choking on sticky vanilla cream. And he imagined him gasping for more.

Cloud took a deep breath, a bit surprised by his absurd thoughts. His attention swayed back to the two boys kissing in the booth. Their wet tongues clashed; arms wrapped around the other. In front of them was an empty glass of their milkshake. Finished. A curious thought crossed Cloud's mind. He wondered if the flavor on their lips tasted of salty saliva and sweet vanilla. An interesting combination.

"You should try a milkshake yourself if you haven't already, Cloud," Kyle suggested with a smile. "Who knows? You may like it as much as I do."

Cloud turned his back to him. He felt too awkward to meet his eyes or talk to him right now. As he stood facing a machine, though, Cloud licked his lips. The single drop of vanilla ice cream Kyle had given during their kiss reached his tongue. Cloud's brows pulled toward each other. That salty, sweet flavor… it wasn't too bad. He sucked on his lower lip a bit more. The tender muscle between his legs, meanwhile, stirred half-awake. It curled right along his left inner thigh.

Somewhere nearby, a Chocobo chirped nonstop. As if laughing at him. Cloud's eyes narrowed. He really needed to get laid tonight.


	6. Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Four veeery familiar faces. This story is heavily inspired by 'The Lost Boys', a great cult classic that knew how to showcase dark pretty things. Warnings: drug usage._

**CHAPTER 5: Blue**

Blue. There was blue everywhere. Somewhere, a high-pitched siren wailed, bouncing off blue-tinted glassed walls where patterned fish swam. Beams of blue light radiated from the ceiling high above. They flickered in half-second intervals. Flash – _blue_. Flash – _blue_. Flash – _blue_. Within the darkness that swallowed Cloud, glimpses of blue faces appeared. Dark figures surrounded him; an endless sea of blue silhouettes. Here. There. Everywhere. Abdominal muscles reactively clenched at the sight of open-mouthed hysteric grins and awkward body movements. The figures danced like stop-motioned puppets amongst the flashes of blue light.

Breathe. Cloud needed to breathe.

His pale skin shined against the blue auras that surrounded him. A few beads of sweat streaked along the sides of his face; matted blond hair clung to his sticky forehead. He must've smelled terrible. Cloud exhaled through parted, chapped lips. When he took a deep swallow afterward, he made a face. The back of his throat tasted funny, a bitter raspberry flavor. No doubt, it was remnants of his last drink, some pleasant mixture of tangy fruit and burning vodka.

Cloud stared at his feet to briefly escape the onslaught of shadowy images that appeared and disappeared in the darkness. The glassed blue floor rippled with a watery effect. An illusion. Transfixed by it, Cloud stared at the shimmery ground until his eyes throbbed with a dull pressure. When he finally looked up again, he grimaced. Those terrible dark figures… they danced more chaotically now.

Club LIFESTREAM. The popular night club was situated inside a giant, donut-shaped aquarium; the largest of its kind. Designed with two stories, the bottom floor featured a dance platform flanked by two separated, semi-circled pools. Blue leather-cushioned seats and neon-lit booths ran alongside curved walls. Downstairs was also home to the club's bar. Casting glows of blue and pink, it was situated inside a massive cylindrical-shaped tank. Two squid-shaped robots served as the club's bartenders. Their multiple arms simultaneously mixed drinks and passed them to the waiters.

Not far from the bar appeared two illuminated staircases guarded by bouncers. The steps led to a members-only second floor. Upstairs, the live band played. Donned in vintage-styled coats, top hats, and monocles, their electric sounds of guitars, sirens, drums, and saxophone boomed loudly in the air. Giant jellyfish lanterns, meanwhile, hung from the ceiling. They glowed with a wild spectrum of rainbow hues. Four-dimensional projected images of sea creatures floated alongside them in the air.

Club attendees pumped their hips and arms to the wave of synthetic melodies. The more ambitious dancers wore scantily-clad swimsuits in spirit of their watery environment. Similarly, the club's hired performers showcased provocative scuba-dive suits with faces covered in metal-plated masks. Their rubber suits were fully decked out with lights. Dangling from the high ceiling with bungee cords, the acrobatic aerial entertainers spun in circles in the air. They offered the crowd an impressive light show.

Standing near the club's pool, Cloud stared up at one airborne dancer above his head with the same fascination of a child. He watched streaks of blue and green light flush in various directions.

Beautiful, simply beautiful.

A heavy musk lingered in the air, a mixture of sweat and perfume. Clusters of attractive men and women clashed their moist bodies against each other in giant waves. Cloud Strife tried to keep his distance. He wasn't usually into the club scene. He didn't have the energy or Gil for it. And he rarely drank or used chemical substances, except on the special occasions he wanted to indulge himself. His knowledge of dance was also limited to the old-fashioned steps his mother taught him as a boy. Hardly fitting. However, it was really vanity-related issues that kept Cloud away from Midgar's nightlife.

He didn't own any flashy clothes. He couldn't compete with all the handsome city boys with his second-hand assortments. Even now, his attire proved inappropriate. Whereas Ele', Biggs, and Wedge had brought a different set of clothes for the birthday outing, he had none. Too embarrassed to show the beautiful people in the club his Chocobo Chow uniform, Cloud kept his coat on. Now he was soaking in sweat.

Cloud felt his stomach twist and turn while the sides of his head throb. An urge to vomit grew strong in his belly. It wasn't just the amount of alcohol he had consumed that bothered him, but the overwhelming heat that emanated from the large crowd on the dance floor with him. He inhaled slowly to subdue the unwanted sensation. No doubt the heavy amount of visual stimuli and fast movements triggered many symptoms related to his motion sickness. The club, itself, reflected a chaotic environment of lights, sounds, and movement.

When the club's current song reached a high mid-point, the sprinklers in the club all activated. Water sprayed the dance floor. People screamed and hollered in rejoice. Cloud wanted to retreat to a dry area but Ele' soon approached from his left. Somehow she found him in this heap of mess. His coworker joined him for a dance. Cloud was ready to reject the offer, feeling unsure of his abilities, but Ele' wrapped her arms around his waist anyway. She pressed their bodies together. Dressed in a rather risqué outfit, two budding nipples poked out of her soaked blouse. Heat rose on Cloud's cheeks.

"Not a bad way to spend your birthday, huh?" Ele' remarked over the music. She opened her mouth to drink some of the water that rained on them.

Feeling thirsty himself, Cloud did the same. He blinked through the drops of water that fell over his eyes and found two holographic sharks directly above them. They circled around each other.

Not far away Cloud spotted Wedge and Biggs. Wedge clumsily stepped on the foot of some random woman while Biggs fared better. He had brought along a female friend to the birthday get-together.

Cloud had met the girl several times before. With long brown hair pulled into a high ponytail, Jessie worked as a mechanic in the Slums. She had a knack at building engines from scraps. A bit of a tomboy, she wore a simple gray tank with suspenders and dark jeans. Cloud always thought Jessie was strange. She rarely talked. On the occasions she appeared, he often caught her looking at him with an odd, unblinking expression on her face. Tonight was no different. Even as she danced with Biggs, Jessie studied him with those big chestnut brown eyes of hers.

"Biggs mentioned you don't commute to the Entertainment District often," Ele' spoke again. One hand lazily swept the side of her drenched purple-dyed hair. "We figured this would be a nice place to celebrate your birthday. Of course, Wedge wanted to take you to a strip joint instead."

Cloud made a throaty sound but later confirmed, "It's pretty expensive in this sector. I think I've visited the Entertainment District only three times."

"It's nice to have an excuse to come back, right?"

He nodded and then slowly inquired, "You live near this sector?"

"Mm-hm. But it's also expensive for me. I'm on a tight budget. Working, while wrapping up my final year in high school, isn't a walk in the park."

Cloud nearly paused in the middle of their dance. He remembered Ele's father. He taught in Shinra's Military Academy. Curious, he wondered aloud, "You don't get help from your old man?"

At this, Ele' licked her blue-painted lips. "No. I live in my own apartment, away from the folks."

"But… wouldn't it be easier to stay with them? You wouldn't have to work and go to school."

"My pop's an asshole." Ele' practically growled. "He thinks he can control my life just like he did with my sister. I'm supposed to enter the Academy this year after I graduate from high school. But I want to follow my own damn path. I'm tired of my father deciding things for me. I'm not my sister."

Cloud briefly broke away from eye contact.

He wasn't sure whether to sympathize with Ele' or resent her. Those who entered the Academy were automatically qualified for a high-ranking position in Shinra's army or the Turks. Cloud couldn't enroll in the Academy himself because he lacked a general education certificate. Worse, the school only accepted top-notched applicants with high scores. Ele' practically rode on a free ticket. Daddy issues aside, she lived on the Plate and had all the necessary credentials and connections. Many career opportunities were opened for her. As for Cloud, he was a hick who lived in a shit-hole and had failed the try-outs three times.

The darkness of the club helped mask Cloud's solemn mood. Water drops fell while the two resumed their awkward dance.

They lost themselves to the steady beats of steampunk metal music. That special type of eclectic funk intrigued Cloud. He didn't know any relevant dance steps but, in the end, it didn't matter. He followed Ele's cue and forgot all the bitter shit that cluttered his mind. Cloud's eyes drifted back to the beams of light above. A light-headed sensation washed over him and nearly made him stumble off balance. No doubt, the shots he had drunk earlier now took their toll. Ele' softly laughed and held him in place.

"This is our time to shine, you know," her voice reached his ears again. There was a serious, monotone vibe in her sound.

Cloud stared at her.

"We're at the turn of our youth," the young woman professed, "This moment won't ever happen again. Tonight, we celebrate our immortality. Let's make the best of it. Okay?"

Cloud clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He wasn't sure if her words were inspirational or cheesy. But they did make a lot of sense. He had reached that period in his life when he could commit to the giant unknown without worry or restraint. Only seventeen, there was plenty of time to own the world. However. The dream he wanted still remained out of reached. Worse, that window of opportunity was closing. Fast. Perhaps, if only for tonight, he could pretend to be immortal. He could feel fierce. Hell, he could even feel optimistic for once in his damn life.

Water droplets continued to fall from above. An onslaught of purple and blue lights washed over the dance floor. Hundreds of bodies jumped up and down, moving in tune with the fast-paced tempo. Cloud kept up with Ele'. Both thrust their hips forward, one leg between the other. Grinding. He saw her place a blue pill on the tip of her tongue. Ele' wrapped both arms around his neck and brought his face down to hers. As they kissed, she passed the pill into his mouth. Their faces pulled away a moment later and Cloud swallowed.

Gradually, his body felt lighter. He could hardly feel his feet planted to the ground; he was flying. The two teens twirled in circles on the dance floor and raised their hands in the air. Laughing. Smiling. Cloud closed his eyes, feeling ecstatic now. He allowed himself to become one with the music and crowd. The dark blue figures that flashed about no longer terrified him.

When the sprinklers finally deactivated and the crowd settled down. A few attendees left the dance floor to dry themselves. Cloud considered doing the same, especially when his heavy coat was soaked. A young man dressed in a fancy suit bumped into him though.

Holding a PHS in his hand, the man ignored Cloud and handed out business cards to a pair of women dancing nearby. He offered one to Ele' before he moved on. Cloud made a face. He felt aggressive enough to punch the guy.

"Something wrong?" Ele' noticed his sour expression.

Cloud's eyes tracked the rude young man who walked away. "Who the hell _are_ those guys?"

"Huh?" Ele' checked the direction of Cloud's glare. "Oh. Them. "

"Yeah. _Them_." He shook his head and spat, "I see them everywhere. All they do is walk around, carry a PHS, and pass out business cards. Are they Turks? Musicians? Businessmen?"

"They're Hosts."

"Hosts?" Cloud repeated. "Like… _dinner_ hosts?"

Ele' blinked a few times and took a step back. Hand on hip, she chortled. "You mean to tell me you've been in this city for _how long_ and don't know what Hosts are? Wow…"

"Give me a break. I spend most of my time down at the Slums." Cloud turned his face away from Ele', feeling annoyed. He found Jessie nearby looking at him again. The strange girl quickly stared at her feet when he caught her.

"Fair enough," Ele' finally said and showed Cloud the card given to her. "They're paid boyfriends."

One of Cloud's brows rose. " _Excuse_ me?"

"They're boys hired for love."

Cloud stood silent again. He was positive he misheard Ele'. When she maintained her silence, though, he abruptly burst out laughing. A bit carried away by his drug-induced state, he had trouble controlling his erratic thoughts and emotions. When Cloud calmed down again he checked the glossy card she held up for him.

He found a name, a phone number, an address, and a photo of a handsome man who wore more mascara and hair products than the average woman. The name of a club was stenciled in generic, Gothic-styled silver letters. Cloud shook his head. _Paid boyfriends?_

Ele' must've seen the confusion on his face. She soon explained, "Hundreds of Hosts reside in Midgar. All those men you see passing out cards, they're affiliated with a _club_. The client contacts them for a get-together. Then the Host takes them to their club for a fun time. Anyone with Gil to burn can hire them to be their boyfriend for the day, week… however long."

"Hired boyfriends?" Cloud spoke each word slowly. "Paid love. That's… kind of fucked up."

"Midgar is a busy metropolis, Cloud. A lotta business men and women don't have time to look for love. This method is easier for them. It's love without the strings. Besides, when you think about it, you're paying for love anyway. Taking out a girl to the movies, buying her flowers, giving her an engagement ring… Love comes with a price tag no matter where you get it from."

Cloud ran a hand through his damped blond hair. He still couldn't fathom this surreal city-born concept. Paid love. It sounded so… _wrong_. Cloud finally concluded, "So, these Hosts are basically male gigolos."

"Kinda. It's a platonic relationship. No sex is involved. At least, that's how it should go." Ele' shoved the business card underneath her bra strap and elaborated, "Ideally, the Host provides _the dream_ to their client. They're there to listen, talk, and have a fun time. Not to fuck."

"I really doubt that…"

"Hosts are like giant cock-teasers," Ele' strongly exerted, "They'll flirt and maybe get a bit physical to plant the _illusion_ to their clients that they have a chance. But they won't give it up. They want their clients desperate and coming back for more."

"Giant cock-teasers…" Cloud quoted, already scoffing at the idea. He absently stared at a family of fish swimming along the glassed walls up ahead. Curious, he asked, "And where are the clubs? In the city?"

"They're scattered everywhere, but most are here in the Entertainment District," Ele' confirmed and later went on to say, "Visitors can enter them any time. Potential clients will receive a compendium that showcases all the club's Hosts. From that list, they get to choose which Host matches their tastes. They hook up to determine if they're compatible. For many clubs, once the client has made a choice there's no going back, so the guest has to choose their Host wisely."

"But wouldn't it be easier to fall in love with the right person? Naturally?"

"Depends. Not everyone can meet the _right_ person." Amused by Cloud's reaction to this entire topic, Ele' grinned. She leaned forward and shared a short, sloppy kiss with him.

When their faces pulled away another dizzy spell hit Cloud. He almost fell backward. Ele' laughed at him again. As before, she kept him steady with both hands. He was a bit high. And drunk. Or was he buzzed? Cloud couldn't tell. His liquor toleration and knowledge of drunken states was extremely limited. Hell, he hadn't experienced a hangover so far. Biggs expressed an annoyance toward _cotton-mouth_ but Cloud had no idea what the fuck he meant. Regardless, it was a good thing he had tomorrow off. If he ended up shit-faced tonight at least he could sleep it off before attending his evening class.

His legs unsteady, Cloud's eyes wandered about the busy dance floor. All the blinking lights and dark dancing figures continued to aggravate his delicate senses. He could feel the acidic tastes of liquor lurk up his throat. Cloud swallowed hard and looked at Ele'. "I… I need to take a breather. Maybe to puke. Maybe to pass out. Maybe to piss. I don't know which yet."

"It's fine." Ele' chuckled. To her, Cloud sounded funny whenever he got a little drunk or high. "Let's find a table and chill there. You can decide then."

Ele' took his arm to guide him out of the dance floor. However, Cloud gently pushed her hand away when his stomach's muscles abruptly jerked. He covered his mouth with both hands. Cloud's face turned to a lighter shade of pink when he muffled, "Give me a moment… If I move right now I'll _definitely_ puke."

Ele' nodded in understanding. "All right. No prob. I'll secure a table first. Then I'll come fetch you. Just stay here. Okay? I'll call if I can't find you so keep your PHS close by."

Still covering his mouth with both hands, Cloud bobbed his head in compliance.

Reassuring him, Ele' squeezed his shoulder. Then she headed off. She had the others follow her as well. Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie all joined the search for a table. Club LIFESTREAM was packed tonight. There were hardly any spots left to sit. Cloud knew it would take them awhile to find a table or booth. He felt guilty he couldn't help.

Briefly, the blond-haired teenager shut his eyes and mentally scolded himself. Cloud hated being a burden to anyone. He also hated his weak, pathetic state right now. It threatened to ruin tonight's celebration. He'd have to take it easy the rest of tonight. He had heard how some susceptible people passed out from drinking beyond their limit. Worse, they would forget the events that had transpired. Biggs called it a black-out. Cloud hoped he didn't fit under that category of drinkers.

Once the muscles in his belly slightly relaxed, he forced himself to bend forward and rested his hands on the knees. He stayed like that for a good few minutes. Cloud didn't move from his spot by the pool since Ele' would return to this spot after she secured a table.

The silhouettes of nearby dancers hadn't stopped moving nor did the flashes of neon-fused lights. Aerial performers twirled in the air; a fusion of swift movement and glowing colors. Cloud could not focus on them anymore. Their non-stop motions made his head hurt. The music from the live band upstairs, meanwhile, turned into a sultry type of sound. With a bit of an experimental touch, the lead singer sung in a low raspy voice. He was accompanied by a steady beat of drums, chimes, the soft plucks of a guitar, and a lonely saxophone. The song provided the perfect soundtrack for electric hot sex, Cloud mused, feeling aroused at the moment.

Cloud continued to stay put until he caught something peculiar among the crowd of dark figures. Blue. A very intense blue. Tiny specks of blue. It was a blue unlike any shade of blue in the club. Even when the dance floor was briefly engulfed in total darkness, those dots of blue remained. Cloud slowly stood at full height. It wasn't just the blue color that threw him off guard. They weren't lights. They weren't reflections. They weren't figments from his imagination. As Cloud studied the strange phenomenon, he realized they were something else altogether.

Three figures. They currently stalked the dance floor. Their tall forms were mere shadows at first, like the other attendees. However, as they approached the pool area directly opposite of Cloud the water's light illuminated their features. Cloud stood completely still.

One of them sported raven-black, spiked hair. Dressed in a worn-out fatigue jacket with a tight-fitted undershirt and loose cargo pants, chains and belts all over, his style was both wild and furious. The boy walked through the crowd of dancers and took a high-voltage puff from his e-cigarette. A stray wolf, Cloud thought. Spikes of black hair was pulled back to reveal a face void of unwanted blemishes and details, save for a curious cross-shaped scar at the bottom left cheek. Both ears were littered with metal piercings. Cloud found himself perplexed by the youth's eyes.

Blue. Those bizarre, starry blue eyes… That's what immediately caught Cloud's attention. That's what lingered among the crowd of shadowed figures. That's what glowed. The boy's blue eyes. They were like blue-tinted mirrors. Even within the darkness, they shined. Eye contacts, Cloud quickly concluded. They had to be. No human being could possess eyes like that. Even the Tsviets' eyes were nowhere near that level of glow.

Fake or not, the strange boy still carried a powerful and piercing gaze. Nearby dancers noticed it. They stepped out of his way. Some out of fear. Some out of captivation.

Upstairs, the saxophone reached a high note. Its sound ricocheted across the entire club. While the crowd cheered, the boy took another inhale. The tiny light in his e-cig flared. Cloud held his breath. The raven-haired teen briefly glanced at his direction. He looked him dead in the eye. Blue against brilliant-blue. Cloud grew even more anxious by those eyes.

The boy was similar to age. Maybe a year or two older. Yet, those blue eyes reflected someone well beyond his years. They shared the same clear intensity of an elderly man who had seen more than his share of the world. A half innocent, half devilish smile tugged at the corner of the other boy's lips. And then… he looked away. The mysterious youth walked onward and ignored the rest of his onlookers.

More blue followed. The second figure. Many years older with shaggy black hair that reached down to his neck, this man stood a few inches taller and featured a more notable frame. Well-built arms. Strong shoulders. Cloud imagined this guy could give Mr. Mukki a serious challenge. However, there was a calm quality beneath the physically indestructible facade.

With naked hands buried inside the pockets of his denim jeans, he maintained a steady and even pace. Cloud could tell the man self-groomed. A patch of hair outlined a proud chiseled chin, yet parts of it looked slightly uneven. Even the thick sideburns that outlined a perfect structure of cheekbones hadn't been cut to fine, thin tips. Still, the imperfections worked. It was a modest yet chic look. This was a confident man; one who didn't resort to high-fashion methods to get noticed. The long-sleeved, gray-blue buttoned shirt highlighted the bizarre color in his eyes. Likewise, the hand-stitched navy vest. A handcrafted choker made of ivory bones decorated his neck. Only his auburn-orange flat shoes offered a splash of warmth to his overall attire.

That strange arrangement of loud musical notes upstairs inspired more energy in the crowd. Bodies moved faster. Rays of colorful lights from above rotated in all directions.

Two female dancers took an interest toward the unique stranger and approached him. But he merely acknowledged them with a simple nod and moved on. His starry blue eyes were set to the club's upper floor. Looking like a man on a mission, he never glanced at anyone and kept to himself.

Cloud watched him drift deeper into the crowd. Then he set his sights on the third man of the group.

He was an auburn-haired gentleman of good height, sporting a sharp figure. Cloud's jaw danced a bit. The vibe he got from this guy was definitely different: direct and bold. Even more, the intensity of the man's eerie eyes burned brighter. Angrier. Within the darkness of the club, they were absolutely terrifying.

An air of silent but prominent confidence surrounded him. This was a man who took pride in his appearance; a man of high stature. Unlike the others, he reveled in extravagance and aristocratic fashion with his tailored vest, leather red trousers, and knee-high leather boots that were wiped to a shine. A crimson coat sprouted rich, brown fur at the collar. The duster reached down to his ankles; its split tail trailed after him as he strutted forward with his head raised. In a gloved hand, Cloud spotted two items: a book and a rose. The handsome man kept both at his side. Never once did he acknowledge the people who stared at him. His brilliant blue eyes stayed ahead. They never looked back.

It was strange. As a country boy, it'd taken Cloud awhile to get used to the odd residents in the city. Three years of occupancy introduced him to the Punks, the Goths, the Metal-heads, the Preppies, the Hipsters, the Thugs, the Ghettoes, the Straights, the Gays, the Trans, and countless more. There were so many niches and flavors in the city. But Cloud had never encountered people like _them_. These men didn't fit under any categories. Cloud couldn't help but feel drawn to their magnetic powers. They were frightening. And beautiful. Beauty and beast wrapped into one.

Caught in a trance, Cloud took several steps forward. He suspected the three blue-eyed visitors were headed to the staircases. Second floor. The exclusive level. The teen moved left once they disappeared more into the crowd.

Cloud didn't notice how close he stood to the ledge of the pool. Too occupied by the pretty blue-eyed men, he carelessly advanced another step. He wanted to keep them in his line of sight for a moment longer. But then… His body abruptly tilted to one side. Nothing held him in place. Off-balanced, Cloud quickly glanced down. He saw only blue water directly below. He gaped. Eyes wild. Realization hit and both arms flailed about, struggling for counter balance. One foot remained on the ledge but it was too late. Too much of him had shifted toward the pool. He felt his body give way. Cloud fell toward the water.

That was when something latched onto him. Something dark. Something fast.

The movement was instant; Cloud barely registered a slender-shaped, gloved hand wrapped around his right wrist. Already, Cloud's whole body had fallen to a side angle. He held his breath and blinked several times. Shocked. Nauseous. Anxious. He stared wide-eyed at the glowing pool of water below. Cloud's right foot stayed pressed against the ledge of the pool though. This, and the hand that held onto his right wrist, was enough to keep him from dropping.

Exhaling loudly, Cloud turned his head back. He needed to acknowledge the wonderful person who had somehow miraculously caught him in time and prevented his fall. But the air in his throat stopped midway when he looked back. His skin turned ice-cold. Cloud suddenly wanted to drop in the pool and desperately escape. A tall creature covered in black layers stood at the ledge of the pool. Motionless. Silent. It looked like Death itself.

Everything about him was covered in black. Black shoulder epaulettes. A long black tailored coat that reached passed the knees. Black collared, buttoned blouse. Silk black tie. Black leather pants. Gloss-black shoes. Black gloves. Everything. Black and more black. As for the face, an extremely long, black-laced veil covered it. The thin material extended all the way to the lower back of the figure. With a lean physique, Cloud only knew this was a man by the lack of breasts and prominent shoulder frame. But that didn't surprise him as much as this man's _aura_. It caused the tiny hairs at the back of his neck to rise.

There was something about this man, about this _being_ , that made him unworldly. Practically intangible. He screamed neither modesty nor vanity. He existed on a different plane altogether, emitting only a loud silence in Cloud's presence.

Dangling over the water, the boy felt both vulnerable and curious. The striking image of this nocturnal animal evoked a thought in Cloud. A recollection, rather. Kyle. Kyle had mentioned a man in a veil earlier today. Cloud wondered if this was that same man. Before the question could be explored, though, the dark figure suddenly pulled him up.

This guy… He was _strong_. Yanked so hard, Cloud almost feared his arm had been ripped out of its socket. But the brute force proved necessary. Had it been any lesser gravity would've done its worse, especially at his steep angle. As it was, the sheer momentum was enough to tip Cloud over to the other side without slipping or falling back to the water. His body helplessly flung the opposite way. He clashed head-on into the tall figure and nearly collapsed until two gloved hands held him at his waist. Once again, he prevented Cloud's fall.

Sirens wailed across the club and the music's tempo picked up. Again, those flashes of light engulfed everyone in blue. Their distorted faces flickered everywhere. Cloud had warped himself into hell and now met the Devil himself.

With a cheek pressed against the other man's chest, he momentarily froze. He could feel a strong, steady heartbeat thump against his ear. A part of him was surprised by the pleasant smell of vanilla in the air. The scent dominated the dark, tall figure. Cloud half-expected an offending smell, something like rotten meat or spoiled fruit. Maggots came to mind. Burnt scars. Decaying flesh. All sorts of horrible thoughts inspired by Kyle's words lingered inside Cloud's head. But the elegant beast smelled appealing. Inviting. Upon closer inspection of his attire, Cloud could observe the fine delicate details of floral designs sewn across his Goth-styled coat. It smelled of expensive leather.

Perfect monster indeed.

Granted, natural instinct demanded a swift retreat. Cloud's cheeks rushed with color. This stranger evoked more terrifying feelings and thoughts than the previous blue-eyed men. Chemical madness within the veins only heightened those sensations of dread. But even as Cloud's heart pounded against his chest and all sense of reason wanted him to leave, he stayed put. His druggy condition made it difficult to take tonight's consequences seriously. Inner morbid curiosities also grew stronger at the sight the daunting creature.

And so, Cloud looked up. Fearless. Tonight, he could pretend to be invincible. Immortal. His clear blue eyes, amplified by the shimmery waters of the pool nearby, stared at the man in black. It was the same stare he gave the wolf many years ago. They did not blink nor waver.

A curious thing happened soon afterward. Up until now, the veiled man had not moved; did not speak. Both hands grasped Cloud's waist, still keeping him in place. But one gloved hand finally strayed. It moved to the boy's chin and lifted the head higher, as if to inspect something of interest there. Cloud realized what it was.

Blue. His own icy blue eyes. The veiled man wanted to see them.

Time crawled to a halt. Both men studied each other's features. While the club rejoiced in a crescendo of saxophone notes and violent beatings of drums, the two locked themselves in another world. Stillness swallowed the intimate space between them. For Cloud, he felt even more vulnerable. His throat was fully exposed as he looked up and the tall man's height practically bore down at him.

Black velvet cloth enshrouded his universe. It was difficult to see through the meshing of the veil. Briefly, Cloud thought he saw a spark of lime-green light hidden within the black covering. A glint. It could've been a reflection though. Or his eyes playing tricks. Cloud wanted to lean closer for a better look, even when his body was already pressed against the man.

A sharp, beckoning whistle abruptly sounded from behind. It snapped Cloud out of his daze. Turning, he discovered one of the blue-eyed men there. The young wolf. He stood only a few feet away; the e-cig still between his lips. Lights from the club painted his flawless face with multiple colors. The blue light in his eyes illuminated consistently.

On closer look, Cloud noticed a few turquoise highlights and patterned feathers that had been threaded into his hair at one side. It gave him a primitive, raw look. The other two blue-eyed men, meanwhile, were up ahead. Both had also stopped. Their eyes shimmered from a distance. Blue, Cloud thought again. The color blue.

Like before, the raven-haired boy directly looked at him. It was a longer gaze this time, as if he were studying him in greater detail. Cloud felt caught. He stood between two forces of nature. Overwhelmed. But that wasn't the only thing that rattled him.

Glancing back at the tall figure next to him, Cloud realized he was in the arms of another man. A _man_. Bizarre as he was, he was still a man. Cloud's eyes shot down to the floor. The color on his face flushed brightly. Kyle's words mentally echoed back to him in mocking manner. _Have you ever been with a guy?_ _Have you ever tried the vanilla milkshake before?_

Embarrassment took over. A sickening feeling of self-loathe boiled within Cloud. Reactively, he pulled away and stepped back. He breathed a bit harder. The veiled man brought his hands to the sides. He calmly turned his head away and glanced at the direction of the raven-haired boy.

By this time, the youth removed the cig from his mouth. He took a step forward; the chimes of his belts jingled. "Yo. Gotta vamoose. They're waiting for us, tops."

That was all the boy said as he stood and waited. His face tilted to one side while he watched Cloud again. Lips wrapped tightly around the cigarette and the boy's prominent brows drew together. Concern painted his blue eyes.

Death's bride walked forward without a word. The tall figure passed Cloud and folded his arms together behind him. Moving with the grace of a feline, each step was smooth, effortless, and defined. No common man walked like that, Cloud thought. For something so trivial and common, he conveyed pure perfection in his walk. It was a form of art.

Admittedly, Cloud felt a tad disappointed when the haunting creature joined the other boy. They stood side-by-side and approached the two blue-eyed men straight ahead. Together, they cut through the crowd of moving bodies like apparitions.

It wasn't until Cloud felt a hand on his shoulder that he realized Ele' was with him again. Standing to his right, her eyes stayed glued to the veiled figure that walked further and further away. She quickly snatched Cloud's hand.

"C'mon. Let's join the others," she urged.

Around this time, the live band committed to a different song; something more mellow. Romantic. The excitement in the club died down. Couples gathered and occupied the dance floor. Cloud followed Ele'. They passed through a holographic image of an octopus floating in the air. The boy felt numb, somehow out of synch with the world. It was as if he had an encounter with a ghost. In some ways, he did. Cloud's eyes shot back to the veiled man while Ele' dragged him to their new destination.


	7. Paint it Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Drug usage, sexual situations, and a disturbing scene in this chapter. Enter at your peril!_

**CHAPTER 6: Paint it Black**

By now, the group of four peculiar men had reached the club's illuminated stairs. They were led by the man in black. Against the pale light of the stairs, his presence became more pronounced. His long black veil flowed behind him, gliding softly in the air with each step he ascended. It was a striking image made more magnificent than a white virgin bride on her wedding day. Cloud continued to hold his breath as he watched him. He saw the bouncers on the second floor quickly step aside when he reached the top stair. All four men entered the exclusive part of Club LIFESTREAM.

"Holy shit, I didn't expect to see him here," Ele' expressed beside Cloud, breaking up his thoughts. Up until they reached the other side of the club, she hadn't spoken a word. Quietly, she said, "He really _is_ strange. I thought he was going to murder you or something."

Cloud turned to Ele' as they continued walking away. She seemed familiar with the veiled man in black. "You know him?"

"Personally? No. But I know _of_ him." She steered them to the bar area and added, "He hardly comes out in the public. When he does, though, he always wears a black veil."

"Why? What for?"

Ele' shook her head and quickened her pace. "We'll talk more at the booth. Just standing out here with that weird guy on the prowl gives me the creeps."

Cloud kept silent after that. He didn't blame Ele'. His own nerves were shot up. Already, sweat gathered at the palms of his hands. Cloud wondered how he let himself get taken away by the dark man's allure. Worse, he invited it in.

His mother used to joke about him being a weird, demented kid sometimes. She was right. During trips to Nibelheim's forest, he'd encountered half-eaten, rotten corpses of animals. Unlike the other children he had never screamed. Observing their bloody entrails and stone-like empty gazes, he'd debate about the delicate nature between life and death instead. Cloud suspected what always drew him toward the disturbed and obscene. However, he quickly shoved the unpleasant thought aside when he finally arrived at a green neon-lit booth.

It was a few feet away from the bar. Providing an excellent view of the second floor above, their booth lined against the metal rails that divided the seating area from the dance floor. A large number of attendees had gathered and waited for their drinks. Some danced while others consumed various substances. Cloud walked around two bikini-clad women in the middle of kissing and fondling. He found Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie already at the booth.

Cloud slid into an empty spot just as Ele' took her place at the opposite end. Biggs was in the middle of dividing lines of blue dust on the black-glassed table when he looked up and noticed the arrivals.

"Man, you look like shit," he described with a loud snicker, having no idea what had rattled Cloud.

From across the table, Jessie stared. There was a worried expression on her face, as if she sensed something amiss with Cloud. But as usual she said nothing.

"How about a round of drinks?" Sitting next to Cloud, Wedge presented a large smile on his face. Before he could gather a general consensus, his fingers were already clicking on several options from a digital interface menu that popped up on their glassed table. "Let's get this party started!"

The group verbally agreed. Cloud quietly massaged the sides of his head but wasn't opposed to the idea. His stomach had settled down, yet the encounter with the black-veiled man still got under his skin. He remained on edge.

When their waiter arrived at the table to confirm orders and ages, Cloud showed him his ID code. Great news came when their server offered him free drinks for tonight on account of his birthday. The seventeen-year-old teenager nodded his thanks.

"Bring out the cake too," Ele' requested to the waiter.

After the server left to fetch their drinks, Cloud turned to her. "Cake?"

"Yea, idiot," Biggs joked and tapped on the blue dust faster with a plastic card. "It wouldn't be a birthday without a birthday cake, right?"

"I handed it to the bartender while you were dancing," Wedge revealed. "I told them to keep it in the bar's fridge until we were ready. It's a triple layered, lavish chunky-chocolate cake, lined by a vanilla stripping with crunchy delectable hazelnuts and cocoa-flavored sprinkles; a serious treat and threat for the taste buds, son."

Wedge's mouth practically drooled while he described the cake. Biggs and Ele' laughed and clapped, clearly impressed. Jessie shyly smiled. Cloud, himself, nodded in approval and looked forward to it.

Waiting for their drinks, the group engaged in trivial conversation. Biggs had finally finished dividing the blue dust and offered everyone a line. Cloud was the last to sniff his up. He wiped his nose with a finger afterward and settled comfortably against his seat. The scenery around him warped into a collection of blurred shapes and colors. Everything and everyone moved more slowly. The sounds of music and non-stop chatter became muffled. He could hear the low beating of his heart pound in both ears. In his dazed state, Cloud checked the upper floor.

His skin crawled at the mere thought of the veiled man who resided there now. Cloud wanted to forget about him. Even so, he needed some measure of assurance. If he knew the man's location he'd feel more comfortable. That's what Cloud told himself as he searched for the man in black. He rejected any notion that this was out of a terrible want to observe disturbing apparitions. And he denied the possibility his dark desire came from a near-death experience as a child, something that had transformed itself into an obsession.

Despair. He would never forget.

On the second level of the club, Cloud spotted a few recognizable faces. Celebrities. Politicians. There were also plenty of Shinra employees. Some still wore their ID badges. Nearly everyone visited Club LIFESTREAM, including President Shinra himself on occasion. Security was higher upstairs because of this.

Aside from the band's stage, the second level contained its own aquatic-themed bar and unique seating spaces. A row of eight-feet-high clamshells were lined along the second floor's railing. Large enough to house a party of ten guests inside, the clamshells were made of crystal and sat wide opened. A low round table made of glass and blue cushioned bedding accommodated each clamshell, allowing guests to comfortably lie down as they drank or conversed. Along the rippled edges of the shell's raised roof hung a stringed curtain made of tiny, beaded glass. They dropped and glistened like rainfall.

It was in these gorgeous clamshells Cloud found the man in black and his party. Near an impressive waterfall that changed colors, their clamshells were positioned directly across his booth. Cloud had an excellent vantage point from his bottom level. Removing his PHS, he used the camera feature to zoom in. He discovered a group of Shinra employees with the four strangers; three men and a woman.

The only female present sat with the veiled man. Together, they occupied a smaller clamshell suited for two a few feet away from the main party. Even with the beaded curtain, Cloud could make out their two forms. The woman carelessly lay against the figure in black. Her curly orange hair was pulled back into a classic retro style up-do. Most interesting was the military dress uniform she wore. According to all the badges and medals that littered her chest, she represented a high-ranking position in the Public Safety Division.

Cloud rubbed his itchy nose again and studied the pair closely. Their intimate closeness appeared surreal. He couldn't understand how a top-ranked officer of Shinra could act so casually around a man like _that_.

"Any idea why he hides his face?" Cloud suddenly blurted out to no one in particular.

His direct question momentarily interrupted the current talk in his booth. Confused, it took Ele' a second to understand the question. Then she followed Cloud's eyes. She quietly sighed when she saw the veiled man. The others at the table did too. Their expressions changed from jovial to disturbed. Apparently, they had all heard stories about the mysterious man in black.

"I don't really know why," Ele' confessed. "I heard he's in mourning."

"Well, _I_ heard his face is so hideous and deformed that he has to hide it," Biggs chimed in, a bit too eager to disclose any and all rumors.

"Yea, I heard he had been in some great fire that fucked him up real good," claimed Wedge. His over dilated eyes tried to focus.

Cloud sighed, disappointed by the lack of reliable information. It was all hearsay. Rumors. Nobody knew who this guy was. With the PHS's camera still zoomed in, Cloud resumed his close observations upstairs and caught the female officer smiling at the veiled man. Her cheeks burned with color while she removed a cigar from a metal case.

When she leaned even closer to the dark figure, Cloud wanted to roll his eyes. This woman came on too hard. Too fast. He expected the predator next to her to respond with a silent, indifferent reaction. Instead, the veiled man lit the woman's cigar with a match. Then he poured wine into her glass while she took a puff. Each of his moves was committed with ease and exactness. The female officer eagerly took the glass and drank it moments later. Her eyes never left him.

"Suave man…" Biggs noted with an impressed nod.

"I'd like to dress bad-ass like him someday," Wedge immediately said.

Biggs snorted out loud. "Only if you can lay off the junk and sweets, flubber-butt."

Wedge stuck out his tongue.

Slightly irritated by their ongoing ramblings, Cloud ignored them. He watched the three blue-eyed men at their own seating space. They regarded the other Shinra employees with similar, cordial manners. More drinks were poured. Only the boy with black hair kept things lively. He dared the Shinra employee next to him into a drinking contest. Cloud was amazed at how fast the wild teen slugged down the shots. It was water to him.

One after another, he slammed the empty glasses upside-down on the table while the other man sluggishly tried to keep up. Twenty shots later, the raven-haired boy stood in victory. His opponent passed out on the velvet cushions. The boy stepped out of the clamshell with a bottle of liquor afterward and drank it down. Seconds later, he spun around fast and crudely spat the liquor straight into the air.

Lying on his side, the fashionably dressed man in blood-red clothes was in the middle of reading a passage from his book to a Shinra employee when he gradually lowered it. Sharp blue eyes stared at his young companion. He snapped his fingers one time and a flicker of fire appeared on his palm. The red-haired male gently blew on it. Almost instantaneously, the stream of airborne alcohol particles caught on fire and a spiraled-shape pillar of fire formed. It wrapped around the black-haired boy.

Nearby spectators stood in awe while the young man danced in the fires. Unharmed. His lithe form twisted and bent in smooth, erotic movements.

The calm aristocratic man eventually rose to his feet and joined him. The fires burned brighter when it surrounded both their bodies. Moving at a steady pace, the two men perfectly mirrored the other in a slow, sensuous dance. Furious-blue eyes stayed locked into one single gaze. Lips faintly brushed against the other while hands explored the curvatures of muscles. The auburn-haired man trailed the boy's waist with his hands and lifted up a few inches of his shirt. He ran his palm across the flat, chiseled belly. As the youth bent backward and closed his eyes, the older man thrust forward and pushed against him. Their dance became more beastly. It shared all the vigor of sex. It was raw. Energetic. Desperate.

Cloud stared nonstop. He couldn't take his eyes away. The dark-haired boy pushed upward, spiked hair whipping wildly. Their lean, beautiful bodies pushed and pulled while the fires burned angrily. Holding his breath, Cloud watched their dance reach a climax. It ended with them tightly wrapped in the other's arms. Both performers slowly stood at full height, facing each other. The man in red gently planted a kiss on the boy's forehead. They pulled away and fires around them finally burnt out. The crowd upstairs cheered.

"Don't take this the wrong way, guys…" Wedge said a moment later, viewing the incredible magic show. "But I can probably go gay for the Ginger. He's pretty hot." He grinned. "Ha! _Get it?_ Hot. Like fire. Like…"

"Hey," Biggs interrupted. "…Shut up." He leaned across the table and smacked Wedge on the head, as if something was broken in there.

Ele' chuckled loudly while Jessie shook her head. Wedge shrugged off their reactions and sniffed up another line of blue dust.

Cloud decided to do the same. Eager to loosen the tight knots in his belly right now, he squeezed his eyes shut as soon as the blue chemicals shot up his nose with blunt force. He threw his head back and moaned quietly to himself. The room span faster. Voices echoed. The blood warmed and freely flowed throughout the entire circuits of his body. Cloud swiped at his nose with a hand and only opened his eyes halfway. In a slurred voice, he asked another question.

"What's his name?" It was the million-dollar question. Cloud didn't know why he had to ask it except that his curiosity and drug-induced state got the best of him. He needed to know.

"What, you interested in him?" Biggs teased.

Hot-faced, Cloud stared back at him with a blank expression. If looks could kill, his would incinerate.

"He goes by many names," Ele' broke the deadly silence. "Death. Bride of Death. Angel. Devil. One-Winged Angel. But only his clients know his real name. They're all sworn to secrecy, I hear."

At this, the blond-haired boy leaned forward. "Clients?"

"He's a Host," she revealed. "They're _all_ Hosts."

Cloud sat back again and surveyed the men upstairs with his PHS again. The interaction between them and the Shinra employees started to make sense. They were hired entertainers. They were hired to _love_. Even so, Cloud made a face when he watched the veiled man with his client. The haunting figure undid the clasps that held the woman's fire-orange hair upward. Falling over her shoulders now, he slowly brushed the loose hair with gloved fingertips.

"Those four men are affiliated with the same group," Ele' remarked, "They're kinda weird. Word on the street is that they came from overseas, before setting up shop in Midgar a few years ago. Their club… It's different from the others."

"How so?" Through the PHS's camera view, Cloud observed the female officer smoke her cigar. Her back rested on the Host's chest while he massaged her scalp with both hands.

"Remember how I said customers who fancy a Host can call one up at any time?" Ele' started.

Cloud nodded.

"Their club is exclusive. Everything, from the club's name to its location, is disclosed in secrecy. You have to be personally invited. Apparently, there's a screening process but I've no idea what it involves."

"Maybe you should quit Chocobo Chow and forget the army, Cloud. Become a Host instead," Biggs joked again. "Flaunt that pretty face of yours and get paid and laid."

The group laughed at the absurd suggestion. Cloud offered a middle finger in response, tempted to punch Biggs at this point. He was grateful when his party took note of his annoyance. In his current compromised condition, his reactions were unpredictable. They eventually changed the subject and discussed a collection of cheesy horror flicks. Ele', in particular, seemed desperate to move on herself. A hint of fear appeared evident in her eyes whenever she glanced upstairs.

For a while, Cloud set his PHS down and numbly listened to pointless chatter. The blue dust's effects had settled in his system, exciting all senses. Relaxed and aroused from the drug, he was in the mood to dance and fuck, although he remained undetermined of which to do first. Cloud discretely placed a hand on his lap in a casual-like manner. Warm fingers gently teased the bulky shape that gradually emerged along his inner thigh. As the boy eyed potential partners on the dance floor, half of his mind was still occupied by the veiled man upstairs.

It was hard to believe the four men were Hosts. The veiled man, especially, didn't look like the type who offered himself to anyone. It was a strange feat to be loved by the Angel of Death. To be lovingly held in his arms. To be kissed. Cloud's nails lightly grazed the top portions of his waking want, as if he needed to scratch it when he really didn't.

Business must've boomed well for the veiled man and his companions. Unlike the annoying Hosts in Midgar, they didn't hound women or shove business cards down their throats. They didn't have to. One look into their crazed beautiful eyes and the people were theirs for the taking. Hook. Line. And sinker.

"You should take off your coat, Cloud," Wedge suddenly suggested. "You look hot in that thing."

Wedge's face was nothing but a blur until Cloud squint his eyes and brought him into focus. Confused, he mumbled, "…Huh?"

"Your face. It's all sweaty and flushed."

Cloud pursed his lips for a brief moment. The hand on his lap paused. He hadn't realized how much his skin burned until now. A new coat of sweat had developed across his forehead, likewise the cheeks. Aside from the blue dust's effects, he actually was very hot because of his coat. The fabric had stayed damped from the water sprinklers earlier. It made his skin itch. Cloud fidgeted in his seat uncomfortably and frowned. He remembered why he hadn't taken off the bloody thing yet. Glancing at the Host upstairs, he dreaded the possibility of the mysterious man catching him in his Chocobo Chow attire.

"I'm wearing my stupid uniform," Cloud bitterly explained. "I wish you guys told me where you were taking me so I'd have brought other clothes to change into."

"Aw, but you look sooo adorable in that work shirt," Ele' teased. "Your hair naturally fits right in with the restaurant's Chocobos." She reached over the table to pull a few strands of Cloud's wild hair.

Cloud brushed her hand away and momentarily closed his eyes, feeling a bit woozy.

"Pft, just take off your shirt then," Biggs suggested, "Be shirtless. No one gives a shit here."

The group agreed, especially when they saw topless men and women everywhere. But Cloud kept his eyes closed and refused Biggs' advice. He was very self-conscious over the nasty scar that spanned across his stomach. His discomfort apparently showed when a person in their table finally spoke.

"Um, M-Metaphysic Disciples are selling band t-shirts by the club's entrance…" the woman across Cloud informed. Everyone paused and looked at Jessie's direction. Her voice was nothing more than a murmur when she added, "I-I-I can nab you one, Cloud. You can change out of your top."

The drugged boy opened his eyes; surprised. Jessie had been quiet this entire evening thus far. It was the first time he ever heard her voice. The brunette-haired teenager kept her head down, unable to meet his eyes. A bundle of nerves, Cloud realized. He finally understood Jessie's issue. She wasn't weird: she was shy. Perhaps even an anti-social person. Cloud could see a bit of himself in the unfortunate girl. Not wanting to embarrass Jessie, he offered her a small smile and tried not to obligate her into anything.

"Um, thanks. But no, I'm fine."

"It's n-n-not an issue," Jessie persisted. She scooted out of the booth, pushing Biggs out of her way. "I forgot to get you something anyway. It's, uh, customary to bring a gift to the birthday boy, r-r-right?"

"Not really…"

Before Cloud could protest again, the girl was already on her way out. He sighed, feeling guilty. It was his predicament; his issue. Still, she sounded all too eager to please him. Jessie's silhouette soon disappeared within the cluster of people and neon-colored lights. Ele' turned to Cloud with a glint in her eyes shortly after.

"You definitely have a way with the ladies, Cloud," she commended.

Cloud cocked a brow; confused. "What?"

"Jessie. She likes you. A lot."

"How do you know?"

"Oh, I have my ways…" Ele' grinned.

Biggs folded his arms across his chest, looking upset now. "Sheesh. There goes _another_ one."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cloud demanded and looked at him.

"Man, you're pretty dense for a chick magnet," Biggs declared. Before Cloud could cut in, he griped, "Every time I try to reel in a girl, the moment they see your face all they want is _your_ phone number. I don't get it. I mean, you got the hair of a Chocobo's ass. What the fuck?"

Wedge chuckled at the offhand joke. Biggs told him to shut up, still serious. Cloud narrowed his eyes and instinctively ran a hand through his messy locks of blond hair. He wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or offended by Biggs' comment. From across, Ele' looked ready to add to the conversation but was momentarily interrupted by the arrival of a girl with a giant Mohawk. She stood in front of their booth.

"Fancy a new high, kiddies?" she asked and lifted up her plaid mini-skirt. Aside from the green thong, a second hidden mini-skirt made of plastic pockets appeared. Each pocket contained a pill or vial inside. "I got all types of fun goodies down here."

Dealers were common people in the clubs. Most of them worked for Don Corneo and were able to conduct their business hassle-free. Biggs sheepishly grinned at the attractive woman while Wedge couldn't decide whether to check the merchandise or the girl's panties. Cloud wasn't in the mood for any more substances in his system at the moment, especially when he struggled to keep focused. While the others checked the dealer's products, he grabbed his PHS to look upstairs again.

A small crowd gathered around the Hosts' table since the magic show. The raven-haired boy had gotten a hold of a harness to join two female club performers in their aerial dance. He blew his companions a kiss. Then he howled like a wolf and lifted off from the second floor's railing. Twirling in the air with the hired entertainers, the crowd whistled and clapped. He moved faster than them all. The muscular Host with dark hair merely watched on. He appeared amused. The glint in his strange blue eyes shined brightly.

Cloud observed all of this in his PHS's view finder. As the other boy spun in the air, he felt the Hosts' magnetic aura pull at him again. Many of the club attendees experienced it too. Each Host was as close to a celestial being as they'd ever get. For Cloud, though, his eyes lingered to the one Host whose aura both pulled and terrified him the most.

Through the PHS's camera mode, the black-veiled Host delicately stroked his client's stomach in small circles. She still lay sprawled over him with her back against his chest, facing the club scene in front of her. Cloud had a full frontal shot of her in view. He saw the cigar remain idle between her fingers; saw it still burn. Within moments, the officer tilted her neck to one side and closed her eyes. Content. Cloud's breath hitched once the Host's hand rested over her chest. At first, he simply followed the trail of gold buttons with a finger. Then he undid them one at a time, starting from the collar.

Cloud watched this intimate moment with tightly pursed lips. He suddenly hated this female officer.

"Hey, Cloud," Ele' addressed him. By now, the dealer had left their booth and she was able to ask him a question. "Just curious, but… do you have a girlfriend?"

Cloud set his PHS down. He was glad none of his coworkers had become suspicious of his intrigues. For all they knew, he was recording the club scene. "Excuse me?"

"A girlfriend," she repeated. "You know, a girl who happens to be a friend with boobs and _benefits_?"

"Wait, I thought you two were together?" Wedge started.

"Nah. I already got a boyfriend," Ele' corrected, "We fucked a few times but that was all. Right, Cloud?"

Cloud's face immediately reddened. Sinking into his seat, he stayed silent. He couldn't come up with a response after that. Not only was that _too_ much information, but Ele's bold description of their flings in the past had nearly caused his head to explode. Unlike her, he valued his privacy.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Ele' pressed again when he didn't reply.

"No. Why?" Cloud countered; his voice a bit on edge. He remembered the annoying conversation he had with Kyle at the restaurant. Everyone seemed to be up on his personal business today.

"No need to sound offended. I was just curious," Ele responded evenly, "Biggs is kinda right. There are a lotta girls into you. It's just weird you haven't hooked up with anyone in the years you've been here."

Cloud silently cracked his knuckles underneath the table. Fucking peachy. Bad enough his mother was heavily invested in his love life, but now his coworkers too. It was a no-win situation. Cloud wanted to bury his face and wait for the night to be over. Too bad the night was still young. According to his watch, it was barely twelve-thirty. The witching hour had only started.

"You're not into guys. Are you?" Wedge suddenly asked.

Cloud's half-lidded eyes stayed on the rolly-polly. He wanted to punch his front teeth out.

"No, he's into women," Ele' answered on his behalf with a light-hearted chuckle. She licked her glossed-blue lips and blushed. "Trust me. He knows his way around a girl's undies. _Very_ well."

Both Wedge and Biggs exchanged a look. In perfect synch, they exclaimed: "Daaayum…"

It was around this time their waiter returned. His arrival saved Cloud from an awkward moment and replaced it with joyful surprise at the sight of a large chocolate birthday cake. It was as impressive as Wedge colorfully described earlier and required the assistance of another waiter.

When the cake settled on the table, Wedge clapped. Ele' got out of the booth and stood. She removed a box of small birthday candles from her purse. Just as the waiter passed out their drinks from his tray, she began to plant seventeen candles on the cake. Biggs, meanwhile, retrieved his PHS from the back of his pocket. He took several snapshots of the birthday cake preparations.

With everyone distracted, Cloud aimed his phone back at the female officer and veiled Host on the second floor. The lights in the club turned to pale purples and reds now. The two were hidden in shadow but Cloud still had an excellent view of them from his spot.

By this time, the figure in black had undone several buttons of the woman's top; a black bra showed underneath. The woman's eyes were still closed. Chest rising and falling noticeably, her face shined with perspiration. Her fragile state served as a sharp contrast to the noble position she held in Shinra; a top ranked official reduced to mush at the hands of a mysterious cloaked Host. For a second, Cloud felt guilty watching them together. Dirty. And pissed for some reason. His curious nature kept his eyes on the lustful scene, however. Cloud's entrapped arousal stirred. It wanted more of this.

As erotic music pounded the air, the Host undid the front clasp of the bra. Two breasts bounced out. Their rosy nipples perked in reaction to the raw heat of the club. The Host lazily caressed the left nipple with a leather-clad finger, tracing its organic soft shape. The woman lying on top of him arched her back when he pressed a particular sensitive point. Her eyes opened. She looked at him; mouth slack. Cloud captured the hungry look on her face with his PHS. His own breath drew harder. As much as he despised this moment, he couldn't keep his eyes away from it. Under the table he pressed the palm of his hand against the budge of his trousers. His fingers stroked with the same rhythm as the Host's.

Leaning forward, the dark figure pressed his cloaked face closer to the woman's right ear. He apparently whispered words to her because now she grew still. Attentive. She slowly smiled. Something about that smile troubled Cloud. He noted the crazed, empty look in her eyes. The woman nodded her head only once, as if to acknowledge something. A question. Her Host proceeded to massage the tender bud between his fingers. His other hand, however, moved along the length of her arm. The Host plucked out the cigar from her hand.

Caught in a trance, the officer's eyes remained open. Pink lights flashed over them. Drops of their beaded curtain sparkled in reaction. The Host uttered more words into her ear. What he said, Cloud would never know. He could only observe the officer's bare chest. Her breasts rose and fell more drastically. Beads of sweat glistened and slid down her smooth stomach. Against the black that surrounded the woman, her exposed skin practically glowed with a sharp contrast. The dark figure held the cigar to her lips. She took a deep, long puff. Thick hazardous smoke blew into the air after he pulled it away from her mouth. The fire at the cigar's tip burned brightly.

Cloud zoomed his camera to max. He wanted to observe this event with all of its delicate details intact. But he froze when he noticed the man in black flip the cigar. Its burning tip nearly touched the woman's neck now. She didn't appear alarmed by this. With half-lidded lustful eyes, she followed the trail of her cigar. It traveled down the length of her body, soon passing the collar bone to her fully exposed chest. The gloved finger that fondled the left nipple now stopped.

Cloud sat still when the woman momentarily arched her back enough for the Host. The dark figure leaned down and planted a kiss on the nipple through his veil. Then he raised his head while the officer resumed her previous position and lay on his chest. Cloud wasn't sure what to make of this. He frowned when the Host positioned the cigar's burning tip over the left nipple. A second later, he pressed down.

Cloud nearly jerked in his seat and gritted his teeth. His wide-opened eyes never left the PHS's screen. He watched in horror as the female officer's face twisted in agony. The most tendered part of her skin burned and bubbled under intense heat. Lines of blood dripped down from her left breast while tears streaked her face. Like a wild dog, her mouth drooled with saliva. The veiled man gently held her down when her hips bulked up and down. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close to him like a lover would. The cigar was still pressed into her nipple but the woman did not scream. Even as the tears burst from both eyes, she did not scream. Cloud instantly lost his hard-on. He saw the twisted grin return on the woman's face and realized he had been wrong.

The woman wasn't in pain. She was in ecstasy.

The woman hysterically laughed and violently convulsed. Induced into a state of euphoria, she no longer cared about the bleeding nipple that was reduced to melted flesh now. The veiled man, in all of his calm façade, whispered to her again. Unknown words poured out of him and traveled into her ear. She rode out her painful orgasm while he cradled her in a lovingly manner. The cigar no longer burned.

Cloud briefly turned away from his PHS's viewer screen. Lips had gone dried. His head felt dizzy from both the drugs he'd taken and the traumatizing event he'd just witnessed. He was horrified; disgusted. One hand reactively grasped his left pectoral muscle and squeezed it. Cloud couldn't imagine the sensation of having his left nipple melt off. His teeth grinded together at the thought. For the second time tonight, Cloud wanted to vomit. His terror, though, amplified when he glimpsed back at his PHS.

Onscreen, the veiled man looked directly at Cloud's camera view. His hidden face slowly swayed to one side. The Host moved his head with the careful speed and grace of a feline who'd just found new prey. The color on Cloud's face turned white. Immediately, he slapped his PHS shut. He didn't dare confront the menace that had showed on his high-definition digital screen with his own naked eyes. His heart pounded fast.

The music and people of the club had all become a dull affair now. Exhaling through parted lips, Cloud dropped the PHS on the table, treating it like a cursed object. Wedge frowned at him. He looked ready to ask what was wrong until Jessie arrived.

"Oh, Cloud! I made it right in time!" She emerged from his left side.

Having returned from her short trip, Jessie's brown eyes grew large when she discovered an impressive-looking cake on the table. Biggs briefly stopped taking pictures and greeted her, all smiles now. None of them knew about the horrific event that had just taken place. Cloud felt both sick and grateful for this.

"Here you g-go, Cloud." Jessie approached him and presented a black, short-sleeved shirt with a band's logo on it. "Happy birthday."

Cloud took a deep swallow and forced himself to relax. "Thanks, Jessie."

For a moment, Jessie noted the broken sound of his voice. She also caught the pale expression on his face. Cloud prayed she didn't ask him any questions and looked away from her. Jessie briefly opened her mouth. A second passed. Then her lips closed. A shadow of a smile appeared; half concerned and half sincere. She quickly returned to her spot at the booth without a word.

"Okay, we're almost ready," Ele' announced and winked at Cloud.

All of the candles on the cake were set. Ele' took out her lighter and started the process of lighting them. Biggs took shots of everyone with his PHS again. Cloud didn't look up at his camera or smile. He mentally and physically withdrew to his tiny corner of the booth as much as he could. Even when there grew a slight temptation to glance upstairs, he quickly stumped out the idea. He knew what terror was up there, eager to return his silent gaze. Cloud kept to himself until all candles were lit.

"We're set," Ele' declared. "Let's do this."

Jessie grinned while Biggs took a snapshot. Both Wedge and Ele' slid the cake down the table so that it sat directly in front of Cloud. The dazed country boy blinked at the multi-layered sweet treat. The cake's overwhelming sight somehow managed to pull him out of his frozen state. Seventeen candles burned. A realization hit Cloud as he sat and studied the piece of work.

Seventeen candles. It was seventeen candles that represented his seventeen years in this planet. He could feel the insides of his stomach bundle together, especially when he knew many of those years had been wasted on a dying dream. Cloud became quiet while the birthday theme played. As was customary, his initiation into the new adult year arrived with a cheesy, very cliché song. Everyone present in his booth mouthed the words. Smiling waiters encouraged others to join, rallying people together. Many followed for the hell of it.

The birthday song traveled beyond Cloud's booth in a matter of seconds. A few aerial dancers converged at his spot in the club and twirled above him. It was easy to find him. Within the dark atmosphere of artificial neon lights, his was the only booth that glowed with a natural fire.

Soon, the song traveled to the dance floor and more attention drew to him. It eventually picked up enough momentum and reached the live band upstairs. The performers played the beat with gentle chimes and piano notes. The sound had a musical-box vibe, one that beckoned back to innocent and carefree times.

The birthday theme lasted only a few seconds long but dragged on forever at the same time. Cloud wondered how long he could hold his breath. The often shy teen sat still in his seat and swallowed hard. His face grew warm from both embarrassment and the seventeen candles still burning. He wanted to disappear. Thankfully, his torment ended on the song's last words. Wedge was the first to scream above the roar of applause and cheer.

"Make a wish, Cloud! Make a wish!"

Everyone at the table offered words of encouragement, eagerly waiting for him to blow out his candles. Cloud could barely make his mouth work, let alone, summon enough air to comply. His slick palms clutched onto his knees. He tried to compose himself but the room span around him fast. Lights flared. Blurs of faces appeared. His companions smiled, likewise the strangers. They were all cast in blue.

A piercing thought haunted the back of Cloud's mind. It had never left him. Delirious and overwhelmed by it, he finally observed the second floor and resigned himself to the inevitable.

The first person he saw was the black-haired youth. He hung on his harness upside-down and looked at his direction with those mystifying blue eyes of his. It was the same for the other two blue-eyed men who sat and watched the event unfold. Blue. Their colors of blue found him. Cloud could feel the vibration of his heart pound across his entire body. He dared himself to look at the final Host.

One elegant gloved hand settled over a glass of wine while the other mechanically stroked the hairs of the woman in his arms. She was too spent to notice that her Host's gaze no longer focused on her. It had strayed away. The dark figure now stared at Cloud's booth. At him. The weight of his hidden eyes was strong. Cloud felt it. Somehow, even with the black veil, he sensed a smile. It made him feel naked; exposed. Cloud could only stand in the line of this man's fire.

"Well, Cloud?" Biggs yelled above the ongoing noise and claps. He brought him back to reality with a large grin on his face. "You ready to blow your candles yet?"

The cake. The candles. His wish. Cloud suddenly remembered. He rubbed off the layer of sweat on his palms across both thighs. He felt the veiled man still watching him. That powerful stare bore down on him and Cloud knew, without a doubt, he'd never feel the same again.

A surprising wish came to him in the midst of these confusing thoughts. It was an absurd wish, especially after the horrific scene he just saw. But the wish drew from the deeper, darker depths of his soul. And that wish grew stronger by the second. Even as Cloud tried to deny this desire and wanted to wish for admission into Shinra's army instead, the hidden aspects of himself wouldn't let him. The wish screamed out for liberation.

Despair. He would never forget.

It was then that Cloud leaned forward in his seat. Slowly, he closed his clear-blue, gentle eyes. He ignored all the vibrant colors in this aquatic world. The pinks. The purples. And the blues. They didn't matter. Neither did the screams and claps around him. They all became silent in Cloud's mind. A calming sensation washed over him and he gladly welcomed it. He exhaled sharply. Within seconds, the burning candles finally blew out.

Black. Cloud wished for everything to be painted in black.


	8. Dance with the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Check yourself before you wreck yourself, ghouls and boils. Warning: tons of 'smexy-wtf-am-I-reading' moments in this chapter. (FYI: I re-uploaded the past chapters to split some of them up. Been doing some house-cleaning with this fic. It's up to 20 Chapters. I'll be posting an update every two weeks I think, just to give myself room to work on the other story updates, namely 'Scandal'.)_

**CHAPTER 7: Dance with the Devil**

"Big titties," Wedge proclaimed as he grabbed a glass of beer next to him. His mouth was slack and the words left his lips in mumbled, drawled-out sounds. "That's all I want out of this life. I want to shove my face in a pair of titties and – _hiccup_ – suffocate myself. I'll die a happy man, bro. Honest truth."

And that was all the big boy said before chugging his beverage in one take. Wedge belched out loud a beat later.

Somewhere on the second level of club LIFESTREAM, a guitar shrieked an onslaught of high-pitched notes in rapid succession. It practically drowned out a jubilant crowd that had grown to twice its original size. It was close to two in the morning but the energy in the club still hadn't let up. The air grew misty and thick with heat. Temperatures escalated thanks to many new arrivals. As the early morning hours rolled on, reckless youths worshipped dance, music, booze, drugs, and sex.

At the booth, Wedge and Cloud sat together at opposite sides. Neon lights flared all around them. The two had kept each other company for a good while. Ele', Biggs, and Jessie were all gone. They had abandoned the booth an hour ago to join the giant mob on the dance floor. Only Wedge and Cloud stayed behind.

Two large holographic images of mantra rays currently floated above their heads. Across their table was a collection of abandoned glasses and plates. A few pieces of the birthday cake remained. The once massive tower of chocolate was now reduced to chunks of frosting and collapsed breading at this point. Both boys observed the leftovers with mild interest.

"How would _you_ want to die?" Wedge curiously asked.

Cloud currently slumped against his seat with unfocused blue eyes. His distorted vision casted blurred movements and a kaleidoscope of intertwined images. Only in this drunken, semi-aware state did he entertain such an absurd question. He shrugged indifferently. "Dunno. In a blaze of glory, I guess…"

"Don't we all…" the other boy mumbled back. Wedge raised his beer in a toast. "Here's to dying with the flames of hell whipping at our backs then."

Cloud didn't bother lifting his mug; his arms felt too heavy. Both of them had been drinking for an hour, filling their heads with all sorts of liquid fantasies. While Cloud was nowhere near Wedge's intoxication level, his glassy eyes were masked by fatigue and disorientation. His head throbbed as well. It was as if a thousand knives dug deep into his skull and went straight for the meaty, sensitive parts of his brain. Was this the notorious symptom of a _hangover_? Was he _that_ drunk?

"Do you prefer big titties or small ones?" Wedge inquired next from the other side.

A numb look crossed Cloud's face. He knew both of them were too out of it to really care for his personal preferences – _finely perked ones_. Briefly, Tifa came to mind. In that moment Cloud held his breath. He knew Tifa would grow a nice pair. She had already developed an impressive rack the last time he saw her. Chilly days were definitely memorable days for him. Tifa's pair always reacted to the cold.

"There are plenty of chicks with big and small ones at the Honey-Bee Inn," Wedge mentioned shortly. He washed down his throat with more beer; a toothy smile still planted on his face. "I'm sure you'll find – _hiccup_ – someone you like there."

A quiet sound stayed stuck in Cloud's throat. His eyes drifted to the membership card on the table; the original source that inspired their current conversation. It was a one-time visit to the naughty den in Wall Market. Cloud wasn't sure whether to thank or smack Wedge for the gift.

"There's no expiration on it," Wedge added, "So go butt-crazy whenever you want to."

"…Geez. Thanks _._ "

"Any time!"

Wedge's inability to detect the bells of sarcasm that rang in Cloud's voice amused the country boy. Still, he said nothing and took a long sip from his glass of water instead.

It was the humidity in the club that bothered Cloud the most. So far, he had drunk eight glasses of water. It did little to cool his body or satisfy the dried texture of his tongue. His bladder gradually made protests. He'd need to take a piss soon. Cloud stayed put though. Aside from his incapacitated state, there was another reason why he chose to stay behind in the booth.

While Wedge vulgarly expressed his adoration for big-breasted Wutai chicks, Cloud ice-blue eyes fell to a particular man upstairs. _Black_. That was what Cloud called him. Without knowledge of his true identity, _Black_ was as good as any name to appoint. It felt appropriate.

Throughout the hour, Cloud watched Black from his booth. The veiled Host had not moved from his spot. Casually lying on his side across the velvet seating area, he supported half of himself up with an elbow. One knee was raised while a free hand held a very long, elegantly shaped pipe that emitted a bizarre green smoke. The veil lifted just high enough to slip the pipe's mouth piece through. Whatever substance Black inhaled Cloud didn't recognize it.

The Host's female client, meanwhile, lay passed out by his side. It was a wonder why Black hadn't abandoned her to join the other Hosts. Over the course of his close observations, however, Cloud learned why he stayed behind in his spot.

At first, Cloud dismissed it as mere coincidence. The long veil made it impossible to see the exact direction of Black's sights. Even so, Cloud felt his skin crawl with a familiar sensation. There was no mistake about it. Since the birthday cheer, a quiet tension had developed between them. Black spent most of his time smoking and watching. Watching _him_.

Pinned to his booth, Cloud nearly suffocated in Black's heavy, steadfast gaze. It was impossible to avoid it. Every move he made was observed by shrouded eyes. Cloud swallowed hard, unsure if it was nervous knots or concern that tied him to his seat. Or perhaps the liquor in his system had really fucked up his ability to think and correctly perceive. Perhaps all of this was in his head.

A sudden urge to pee struck the tip of Cloud's agitated groin; a reminder from Mother Nature to take care of proper business. He briefly squeezed his thighs together and battled the uncomfortable sensation with sheer will. Like hell he'd leave the safety confines of his booth. Black was out there. Watching him.

"Aren't you hot in that thing?" Wedge abruptly inquired, noticing Cloud's silence. He scooped up two inches of chocolate frosting from the discarded cake with a finger. Sucking on his pinky, he noted questionably, "Weren't you gonna take off that – _hiccup_ – coat?"

Cloud forced his eyes away from Black. "Huh? What?"

"Your coat…"

Cloud reactively glanced down at his heavy coat. He frowned. Originally, he'd planned to visit the men's restrooms and change into the shirt Jessie had given him. But that plan quickly changed when he noticed Black keeping a watchful eye on him throughout the evening. Cloud refused to leave the booth, feeling both paranoid and nervous. For all he knew, the rumors were true and the black veil concealed a face that oozed with pus, blood, and rotten meat. A demonic being with all the mannerisms and essence of an angel… Black would strike as soon as he left the booth. It was a terrifying yet provocative fantasy.

"I'm fine," Cloud lied and drank more water to cool himself off.

"You're sweating more than I do on a single push-up though."

Cloud simply readjusted himself in his seat.

"Bah, remove the coat," Wedge begged.

That anxious feeling from before grew in Cloud's belly. When he checked upstairs he found Black exhaling a giant puff of smoke. There was something hypnotic in the way the strange green haze slithered around his dark figure like a ghostly snake. It was alluring. Cloud set his glass of water down.

"Go change," Wedge urged.

"I can't," Cloud managed to mutter. "The restrooms are likely full so there's no point of changing now."

"Who says you gotta go there to change? Change – _hiccup_ – here."

"What?"

"You heard me. Take off that stupid coat and – _hiccup_ – switch shirts here. You're sweatin' like a hog."

"Wedge, shut up. You're drunk. There's no way I'm changing out here." Cloud was just as drunk but tried to keep the tone of his voice calm.

"What? You're afraid of showing your man-tits? Ain't anyone gonna – _hiccup hiccup_ – give a shit if you change in our booth. Look 'round you." Wedge lazily waved a hand at the crowd on the dance floor. At least ten women were topless, happily flashing people with perked nipples. "Just change, man. It's not like anyone is – _hiccup_ – gonna watch you."

Cloud narrowed his eyes in an all-knowing manner. He sat still, getting more and more irritated with Wedge. And himself. He hated how tensed he'd become. Cloud partly blamed it on tonight's dust-filled and alcoholic partaking. They made him edgier than usual.

"Cloud," Wedge demanded one last time with an exaggerated pout. " _Change_."

" _Fine_ …" Cloud bellowed back. Wedge's constant nagging had finally forced his hand. Now his fingers found their way to his coat's buttons.

Beads of sweat streaked down his cheeks. The heat from the club made it harder to breathe. Keeping his face down, Cloud grew embarrassed. He didn't dare check Black's reaction to his undressing. The faster he changed the better. Cloud slowly lifted the heavy coat off his shoulders. Tiny bumps surfaced across his skin. He actually felt better. A ton of weight had disappeared. He'd been sweating in that damn coat the entire time and now felt as light as a feather without it. Unfortunately, the sight of a yellow uniform shirt reminded him why he kept it on in the first place.

Cloud muttered an incoherent word, feeling even more exposed and irritated. His fingers quickly worked to remove the top while he hunched down as much as he could, attempting to conceal himself with the table. Seconds later, the flimsy material was tossed aside.

"Damn, Cloud. You got a hot body…" Wedge remarked at a shirtless Cloud; his beady brown eyes wide opened now. "I'd go Bear for you…"

"Shut up." Cloud glared at him.

"You work-out?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Wedge gave one more glance-over at Cloud's bare chest. "You should strip for the ladies. Certainly pays better than the army."

Cloud rolled his eyes. Inwardly, though, he enjoyed the compliment. He didn't flaunt an impressive six-pack like all the cool guys. However, his body did showcase a lean and tight frame. The tummy was flat and his slender arms possessed all the necessary toned muscles required to lift pounds of steel. He had the slim figure of a dedicated athlete. If not for the long scar below the navel point he'd feel more comfortable with his body.

Cloud paused before putting on the shirt Jessie had given him. He didn't know why, but he caught a glimpse upstairs. He didn't understand the warmth that flushed down his body when he discovered Black sitting in a different upraised position. His long pipe now rested idly between gloved fingers. Cloud's breath hitched. Something in the way Black watched him made this moment more intense. Black didn't move. Nor did he take a smoke from his long pipe. Licking his lips, Cloud did not cover himself yet. His skin rushed with another wave of heat and, for the briefest of moments, he reveled in the attention given to him right now. He felt… a desire.

"Ugh, I feel like shit," Wedge suddenly groaned.

The words snapped Cloud out of his trance. He blinked several times.

"Why do I feel like shit?" moaned the big boy again. Wedge massaged the sides of his scalp.

With a small amount of reluctance, Cloud slipped on the black short-sleeved shirt. It fit perfectly. He turned his attention to Wedge. "That's because we drank a lot, idiot…" Cloud quietly reminded.

"Think I'm gonna – _hiccup_ – take a little nap…"

Cloud cocked a brow at Wedge.

Wedge's chubby red face hit the table with a dull thump. A second later, he mumbled, "Yep. Nap time."

"Hopeless." Cloud sighed. "You're hopeless, Wedge…"

"Bah. I'm not hopeless, I'm – _hiccup_ – just misunderstood." Face-down with saliva drooling at the corners of his mouth, the big boy closed his eyes.

Cloud shook his head. He reached over the table to smack Wedge's cheek and wake him up. Wedge snored. Cloud considered slapping him again until a buzzing sound vibrated from his pants' pocket. Glancing down, he retrieved his electronic device. It was a text message.

 **Nunchaku (2:10AM):** _Get laid yet?_

Cloud's cheeks rose to a deeper shade of blush. He figured Kyle would text him during the birthday get-together. Their _colorful_ conversation at the restaurant hadn't been completely forgotten. With a soft scoff, Cloud typed a quick reply.

 **Omnislash (2:10AM):** _Nope._

Cloud didn't have to wait long for a response. Kyle was all too quick to point out the obvious.

 **Nunchaku (2:10AM):** _What the fuck, man? No potential prospects?_ _I'll happily fuck you if no one does._

 **Omnislash (2:11AM):** _Not interested._

 **Nunchaku (2:11AM):** _I'll be a gramps by the time you make up your mind._

 **Omnislash (2:11AM):** _Whatever. Still not interested._

 **Nunchaku (2:11AM):** _Have you at least found someone interesting enough to fuck?_

Cloud nearly rolled his eyes. That damn question. Kyle was relentless. Of course, Cloud was a bit disappointed he hadn't found anyone to take home as well. He still hadn't mastered the art of random one-night stands. The women he'd slept with had either been minor associates or gone out on a date with him at least once prior to the dirty deed. His ability to initiate sex was also clumsy at best. A lackluster compliment here. An awkward glance there. He'd only gotten away with it because the girls thought his efforts were _cute_ and took pity on him. It also helped he sported pretty blue eyes and a decent-sized cock.

As the morning hours drew his birthday celebration closer to an end, Cloud wondered if he'd be lucky at all today. He admittedly wanted to bring home company; he needed to relieve the stress that had built up since the day of his third rejection letter. At least he _did_ find someone worth an interest: Black.

No sooner did Cloud think about the Host did he look upstairs. Again, the veiled creature stared back, observing him as always. Cloud suddenly remembered Kyle's _mission_. The street hustler had mentioned the elusive man; a man in a black veil who saw only the people he chose to see. It sounded bizarre at first. Cloud couldn't believe such a story. But there he was: the black-veiled man.

 **Nunchaku (2:13AM):** _Where are you?_

 **Omnislash (2:13AM):** _Club LIFESTREAM._

 **Nunchaku (2:13AM):** _That place is elite. You'll definitely find someone and get laid._

 **Omnislash (2:14AM):** _I guess._

 **Nunchaku (2:14AM):** _You really need to work on that confidence of yours, buddy._

Cloud mentally scolded Kyle and messaged back a 'whatever'. Of course. It was so _easy_ for Kyle to think like that; to be so damn optimistic. Everything came naturally for him. Everyone loved and idealized the other blonde. Cloud didn't doubt the street rat's handsome looks and charms would convince the veiled man to see him; to _choose_ him. Kyle was fucking perfect.

 **Nunchaku (2:16AM):** _I still haven't found him._

 **Omnislash (2:17AM):** _Him?_

 **Nunchaku (2:17AM):** _Yeah. Him. The black-veiled man._

Cloud paused. It was as if Kyle had just read his mind. Both sets of teeth gently tapped together a few times. He thought a moment. Kyle would be ecstatic if he learned the black-veiled man was here at Club LIFESTREAM. He had passed up the birthday get-together in search of him. Cloud's fingers hooved over the cellphone's keyboard. He contemplated over a proper response.

 **Nunchaku (2:18AM):** _I don't understand. My sources say he's out in the city right now._

Cloud's fingers hesitated.

 **Nunchaku (2:19AM):** _Do you think he's there? At the club?_

Cloud still debated on what to type.

 **Nunchaku (2:19AM):** _Have you seen anyone in a black veil?_

Cloud's fingers finally moved across his keypad. Each letter he pressed lit in rapid succession. Halfway into typing a confirmation of the Host's location, though, that tang of bitterness from before seeped into Cloud's thoughts.

Black would likely choose Kyle. It was a fact. Once again, Kyle would be the favorite of the two blonds. Once again, Kyle would end up on top. Cloud's briefly looked up at the Host and wondered if Black would have approached Kyle by now. Perhaps Black would've spent the evening staring at _him_ instead. Cloud's jaw reset itself. He read over his unsent text message and blankly stared at the _enter_ key of his phone now. Before he could think any more on it, a familiar chime alerted him to a new comment.

 **Nunchaku (2:20AM):** _Cloud? You there?_

Cloud didn't understand how he developed a fascination with Black or why the possibility of Kyle being chosen bothered him. Black's occupation still sounded bizarre to his ears. It wasn't like Cloud intended to call on him. If anything, his intrigue likely came from pure curiosity. No matter the taboo or personal implications, Cloud couldn't deny the appeal of the Host. With a deep swallow, his fingers tapped on a single button. _Delete._ Each word disappeared. They were replaced by a short and brief message.

 **Omnislash (2:23AM):** _Have to go now._

Cloud shut the phone before he could read the next reply. He drew a breath afterward. Almost as soon as he ended their chat, feelings of guilt and disappointment emerged.

Cloud recalled Ele's conversation not long ago. _Giant cock-teases_ , she had claimed. Look, but don't touch. Touch, but don't taste. Cloud wondered what sort of tedious requirements the Hosts demanded of their clients, especially the black-veiled man. They weren't the type who opened up to anyone. A fat pocket likely played a part in their selection process. Considering the amount of club attendees already interested in the four Hosts, they could afford to be picky with their clientele. It was probably suave and beautiful clients like Kyle they took a fancy to, not minimum-waged punks like him.

Cloud felt like shit right now. He couldn't understand where these feelings of resentment came from. Nor why he felt jealous in the first place. He'd just screwed over his friend. And for what? Because he hated how popular Kyle was? Because Black would choose him? Growling to himself, Cloud opened his phone again. He felt ashamed of his childish tantrum. When he saw a smiling emoticon and 'good luck' text Kyle had left for him, it only made Cloud hate himself more. He immediately typed his original response and a quick apology. However, when Cloud glanced at Black upstairs he stopped typing.

Black was gone.

Cloud leaned forward in his seat. The female client still rested on her side, still asleep, but Black was nowhere to be seen. Cloud's eyes searched for the missing Host across the second floor. The music changed. As if echoing his tensed mood, it turned to a more furious, fast-beat tempo. Sirens wailed on and off while words spilled from the mouths of the musicians. They spoke of love, knives, and agony. The song prompted the crowd to scream louder. Everywhere, the air reeked of electric energy and pure desire. Strobe lights flickered on and off again from all directions. A mist of blue settled across the club.

Licking his dried lips, Cloud wondered if Black temporarily left for better adventure or ditched the club scene altogether. Likely the Host had grown tired of their little game and simply moved on. Disappointed by the thought, Cloud shut his phone and slid it back into his pocket. The text didn't matter anymore. He no longer knew where the Host was.

 _Peachy_.

Feeling his bladder ready to explode again, Cloud ultimately decided now was a good time to relieve himself. He checked on Wedge first. Still snoring, the big boy wasn't going anywhere. Cloud made his way out of the booth. At first, his legs stumbled when a sensation of vertigo and disorientation temporarily took over. Cloud fought to regain his balance and forced one foot in front of the other. It was like climbing down a forty foot ladder; every successful step became an act of god. As clumsy as his physical actions were, however, his mind remained coherent enough. He slowly made his way down a small flight of stairs.

Avoiding the big crowds, Cloud stuck close to the glassed walls and placed a hand on it to steady himself. Several times he had to stop and re-focus his vision. Thankfully, a straight line of blue neon lights directed him to the men's restroom.

When he finally arrived there were two entries at opposite sides of each other. Lines had formed outside those entrances. For whatever reason, one line was longer than the other. Cloud opted for the shorter one but immediately stopped mid-stride.

Within the low-lit setting of the club, Cloud discovered the silhouette of a terrifying yet elegant shape: the figure in black. Black stood in line with his back pressed against a wall, one knee casually bent with arms folded across his chest. A PHS was currently flipped open in his hand; its screen casted a soft tinted light. The long veil stayed over Black's face while he stayed occupied with his cellphone.

Cloud's mouth parted. The even rhythm of music played louder in his ears. Both cheeks burned with heat while erratic thoughts danced in his head. The influence of alcohol and drugs only made him succumb to his mental wanderings faster. He wasn't ready to stand near this strange man. Even if he was, he wouldn't know what to say or how to act. Their distant interactions throughout the evening were as far as Cloud was willing to go. Stepping backing, he quickly joined the longer line before Black noticed him. As if sensing his presence, though, the tall shadow looked up from his PHS.

Cloud reached the other line. When he glanced back, he noticed that Black had lowered his arms from their crossed position. The weight of his stare bore down on the teenager. It never wavered.

Holding his breath, Cloud had trouble standing on both feet. Nervous knots overwhelmed his stomach. He hid behind the bodies of men in line, trying to avert that heavy gaze from him. Already dreading his decision to visit the restroom, Cloud kept to himself. He felt exposed. Naked. That awkward feeling amplified when he noticed a few men in line glancing back at him. The large bald man directly in front of him smiled in a manner that made his shoulders tense. Cloud considered returning to the booth but his bladder demanded attention. Several times he had to shift his weight from one leg to the other, sometimes crossing them.

Thankfully, the long line moved along the wall. When Cloud made it to the neon-lit entry point, the door automatically slid aside for him. There was a curved hallway that snaked up to a small set of stairs. The corridor's glassed walls showcased a family of fish flowing to and forth. Through the transparent wall and swimming fish, Cloud could see the second line of men on the other side. He found Black there. Black stood, staring back at him. Cloud frowned when the veiled figure lifted up a single finger. Black slowly shook it, making a peculiar 'no' gesture.

No? Cloud blinked several times, confused.

The current song in the background continued its chaotic melody. The line progressed again. Cloud reached the small set of stairs and came to the main section of the restroom. The restroom was massive. A soft bluish tint emitted from its glass floor. Thousands of small fish swam under his feet. He felt as if he were walking on water – in his drunken condition he might as well have been. A paranoid voice within worried about a leak or crack in the glass. Because the entire restroom was situated deep inside the aquarium's waters any break could potentially flood the whole compartment. Cloud fought against the gruesome thought and forced one foot forward.

He noticed the restroom was large enough to accommodate a good number of occupants. With so many attendees at the club tonight all of the urinals and stalls were in use though. The enormous space was divided in half by a large water wall that reached up to the glass ceiling. LED lights continuously changed its colors. On both sides of the water wall were the restroom's sinks. The faucets themselves were constructed of glass; their exposed pipes glowed. Rectangular mirrors hung in suspension by thin metal rods attached to the ceiling.

Straight ahead from the small flight of stairs, Cloud saw two rows of restroom stalls. They were several feet apart and faced each other. One row ran against a wall while the other set of stalls was situated in front of the water fall. Urinals lined along the far back of the restroom. Cloud advanced a step and momentarily struggled with his balance. From his immediate left he caught a glimpse of the other side of the restroom. Divided by the same water wall, the second half of the men's room also featured two lined stalls facing each other.

Cloud wrinkled his nose. It smelled of fresh bleach here. Something else drifted in the air; something that shared the same oily stench of ejaculated juices. Cloud moved further toward the stalls. He paused.

A large crowd had gathered in the narrow space between the two rows facing each other. At first, Cloud dismissed the peculiar scene. Then he heard soft moans echo throughout the area. Up until now, he hadn't heard them; the dance club's music blared too loudly from the restroom speakers. He was now close enough to hear the groaning. For whatever reason, the crowd of men stared intensely at the two rows of stalls. Cloud couldn't see what they saw from his angle. He quickly made a face when he noticed a few men expose themselves. Their arousals out, they pumped themselves through tight sweaty fists. When the line moved along again, things became clearer to Cloud.

The first thing Cloud discovered was that the stall doors and walls were all made of glass; clear and visible glass. The lack of private measures initially baffled Cloud until he joined the crowd and stood between the two rows. He froze in place. Through the exposed stalls, he witnessed an exhibition of raw, unbound human pleasure.

While a few men openly injected needles and shot up chemical romance into their veins, others engaged in debauchery. At the glassed stall next to Cloud, he saw a tall and slim man with a neatly groomed cut. He stood with no shirt on; his trousers pulled down to his ankles. Facing a wall, his pale buttocks were spread wide. The man's skin shined with the dull blue color of the restroom's sterile-like lighting. Each breath he drew fogged the glass. Standing behind him was a bulky, muscular man wearing only a terrifying full-faced scuba mask. His breath wheezed audibly as he thrust deep and hard nonstop, like a machine set on auto-pilot mode. His massive muscles rippled with each motion he committed. The sound of wet pounding could be heard through the glass while the slim man's length helplessly wobbled up and down. Its glossed tip smacked and smeared the glass.

Cloud looked away but the stall next door was just as eye-shocking. Crammed with four men, three of them were connected like a train and clumsily pushed into each other's crevices. The fourth man rested on his knees. His face was buried between the buttocks of the last man. Again and again, his head bobbed as he lapped at a sensitive spot there.

At the stall directly across them was a boy in his early twenties. He sat kneeled between two older men in opposite sides. The boy kept slapping his face with their aged cocks. The older men whispered many encouraging words until two spurts of white goo sprayed outward. At that point, Cloud stepped back.

Nauseous, his throat burned. The liquid he'd drank all night rose and threatened to erupt. Cloud swallowed it down and shut his eyes. He understood now why one of the restroom lines was shorter than the other; why Black had gestured a 'no' to him earlier. This line led to a peep show. Each stall showcased one perversion after the next. Voyeurism was welcomed as well as those who wanted to participate in the _show_.

Running a hand through sweat-mat hair, Cloud felt awkward and out of place. He could still hear the sounds of hot sweaty flesh getting slapped above the electro music. The air reeked of sex. Cloud wished the music was loud enough to block out everything. And yet, he was disturbed when some part of him wished the music was completely gone.

The teen swallowed hard. That tiny voice of self-loathe and resentment gnawed at him. It reprimanded him for standing here with a half-awake want. Cloud blamed it on his full-bladder and compromised condition. He was a young, drunken fool.

Once he saw a man publically shit on a glassed-made toilet and wipe himself in front of the audience that became his last straw. Cloud turned away in disgust. He decided to take a piss elsewhere. Perhaps he could sneak into the women's restroom. Or find a potted plant somewhere. He needed to leave this place. Cloud made his way out of the line. However, the chubby man in front of him abruptly grabbed his arm and pulled him back. The big guy already had his erection out and held it tightly with a free hand. That same twisted grin from before now reappeared on his face.

"Hey, birthday boy…" he started in a low breathy voice, "I gotta nice, juicy present for you…"

Cloud narrowed his eyes. Due to his public-wide celebration, it didn't surprise him many strangers recognized him as the _birthday boy_. Still, he wasn't in the mood for this crap. "Sorry. Not interested."

The big guy didn't let go of his arm. "Don't be shy, angel-face. Daddy will treat you good."

"Get lost, _Daddy_ , or I'll rip off your balls and make you choke on them," Cloud threatened back. He was drunk, yes. But he had a nasty habit of beating things to a bloody pulp whenever someone annoyed him.

The man merely laughed and dismissed the threat. He tugged at Cloud and brought him closer, soon rubbing his rigid, slimy penis across the boy's thigh. He was about to make another crude suggestion until he froze in place. Cloud noticed the expression. He suddenly felt a presence nearby and turned.

A tall dark figure loomed over them. Cloud barely made an audible sound from his throat; a mixture of surprise, fear, and fascination. Without a word, Black swiftly grabbed the hand that clung to his arm. Cloud could hear the soft cracks of finger joints break. The big guy bellowed out a painful yelp. Black did not release him. He slid a gloved hand to the back of his veil.

Glimpses of long silvery hair appeared when the black cloth briefly shifted to the side. Cloud had never seen hair like that before, thick and smooth with an unnatural pigment. Eventually, his eyes followed the gloved hand's movements. It withdrew a foot-long blade hidden beneath the veil. Black gracefully placed the sword near the chubby man's exposed groin. He was in the perfect position to castrate him.

" _Observe_ ," a low and even voice ordered from behind the black veil, "A complimentary blade of mine. Nowhere near as impressive as my _other_ sword, but it suffices. For the ancient Wutai clans, this blade's primary function involves beheadings and ritual suicide." Black lured the katana closer to the head part of the man's fat cock with one silent move. He leaned closer to the man's ear and whispered, " _Beheading_ … That's quite an appropriate function to perform at this moment. Wouldn't you say?"

The big man's knees visibly wobbled. Already, his hard-on lost half of its shape. Black finally let go of his hand. With broken fingers the big guy took many unbalanced steps back. He trembled nonstop, looking on the verge of tears. Whatever sounds came from his mouth were incoherent. Zipping up his pants with his only workable hand, he quickly scurried away.

Cloud witnessed this event in complete silence. He didn't blink. Somehow, the voice that spoke had also frozen him in place. Nothing in Black's tone sounded forced. His mannerisms were effortless while his voice's pitches were a collection of melancholic, low melodies that bounced in the air. Cloud stood still, completely transfixed.

"If it is deviant pleasure you desire I will leave you to your devises, boy," the veiled stranger spoke again, his voice smooth and not above a whisper. "On the other hand, if you came here to discharge then be advised: you're standing in the wrong line."

Without another word, Black headed to the other line across the restroom. His gloved hand swiftly returned the foot-long blade to a holster concealed underneath his cloak. Again, Cloud saw thick strands of long silvery hair. Against the blackness of the Host's whole attire, the fair hair really struck out. Cloud took a swallow. Standing in line with a bunch of men who now watched him like live bait, he didn't waste any more time. He quickly trailed after Black and reached the other side.

Cloud was relieved to find steel-made walls and doors in the stalls here. Unlike the other line, this one was meant for those who actually needed to use the damn restroom. If only he discovered this sooner when he arrived. Cloud now stood behind the dark-cloaked stranger as they waited for their turn. There were a few men ahead of them. This didn't help his situation. His bladder was ready to explode. The adrenaline rush Cloud had just experienced now exhausted his body. At this rate he'd piss in his pants and shame himself in front of everyone, including Black.

Chewing on the insides of his mouth, Cloud blankly stared at the space between his feet. Fish floated below. He considered thanking the Host for his assistance. A tinge of embarrassment struck deep in his gut though and he ultimately decided against it.

Black definitely had a terrifying and intimidating presence, despite his dignified stature. Standing behind him, Cloud halfway expected Black to turn around and stare down at him like he'd done throughout the evening. He didn't. There was only a prevailing silence between them, broken only by the sounds of music and heavy panting from the other side of the restroom. With so many awkward circumstances happening all at once, Cloud figured his rotten luck would bring him here. It brought him to the mysterious man in black on a full bladder and in the middle of an orgy.

"Is this your first time seeing something like this, boy?" Black suddenly asked without looking back.

 _Boy_. Cloud was slightly annoyed at being called a _boy_ than _man_ but bit back a smart-ass reply. The question itself flustered him. Cloud stayed silent and fidgeted in his spot.

It was definitely an awkward moment. Aside from his bodily demands, there were the sounds of sex that echoed across the walls. Even from their current position, glimpses of the orgy could still be seen. Black obviously saw the couplings but maintained a calm demeanor.

"A sea of impenetrable, lustful gazes with only the motive to drive forth a slick and ready want into the warmest nether regions…" the veiled man noted thoughtfully, "It's all an erotic landscape composed of endless consumption, yes?"

Velvety sounds of Black's voice penetrated Cloud's ears again. The back of his exposed neck felt moist while leg muscles weakened. Strange. Whenever the dark figure spoke Cloud felt more unglued. No other person had inspired this kind of reaction before. He mentally scolded himself for putting himself in this predicament. Black suddenly turned and looked at Cloud; the veil silently flowed after him.

"I've seen you looking at me the entire evening. You've watched me since I entered this place," Black pointed out evenly. Leaning his head to one side, he inquired, "Do I strike you as _strange?_ "

It took a long moment for Cloud to find his voice. What came out sounded raspy and uncertain. "Honestly? Y-yeah."

A soft and very low chuckle escaped the other man's concealed mouth. His facial veil slightly moved.

"I saw you looking at me too," Cloud confessed. He held his breath for a second. Then he quickly reiterated his statement and muttered, "At least, I _thought_ you were."

"I was."

Cloud's eyes flashed with surprise, shocked by his open admittance. Curious, he asked, "…W-why?"

"Because you strike me as strange too, boy."

Somehow, Cloud detected a smile behind the dark veil. There was a glint of green hidden within the blackness of his face. Or perhaps it was a reflection from the restroom's light? An abrupt feeling of lightheadedness overtook Cloud. Feeling dizzy from it, he bent slightly forward. His eyes drifted to the glassed floor again. He'd definitely had too much to drink tonight. Or maybe it was something else. Crudely, he placed a hand on his crotch, as if to will it from leaking. That damn bladder of his…

"Do you enjoy the company of men?" the stranger spoke again, sounding curious.

Cloud blinked several times, taken aback by the question. He frowned. "I've never considered it." Cloud kept his eyes on the family of fish beneath his feet. As if to prove his point, he added, "I'm into women. This is my first time seeing anything like this."

"Does it offend you?"

Cloud briefly glanced up. Across the restroom, he saw two men lying on the floor. They lapped at each other's cocks. The tensed penis in Cloud's hand stirred. He quickly diverted his attention back to the swimming fish below. Avoiding Black's question, he noted aloud, "You obviously aren't shocked by it."

"You assume correct. Sexual intercourse among men has always fascinated me."

Cloud tightened his hand's grip. This was none of his business. However, it was mildly shocking to know Black was into guys. Boldly, he remarked, "I guess women aren't your thing."

"And what makes you think that?"

"You like men." The boy shrugged. "So you must not like women."

"I'm not exclusive to men," the Host corrected, "I happen to enjoy women very much."

Cloud thought about the woman he was with, recalling the Host burning her nipple. He stared at Black. "But I thought being with men meant you were, well… _exclusive_ to men?"

At this, the tall stranger folded his arms behind him and took one step forward. He leaned forward so that his voice carried strongly. "And who wrote that rule, boy?"

Cloud took a deep swallow and suddenly wanted to disappear. "I-I don't know…"

Silence.

Perhaps Black's occupation as a Host encouraged him to embrace both genders without discrimination, Cloud reasoned. He honestly didn't know and felt stupid right now. Mentally, he debated on how many partners Black had, provided he had any at all. Surely, his status as a Host and the rumors of his disfiguration likely prevented him from sex.

"No offense," Cloud later apologized and ignored his mental ramblings, "That's just… what I heard."

Black finally made a quiet chortle sound. "If only the world operated under pre-defined, black-and-white notions, boy. Wouldn't life be _grand_?"

That last part oozed with sarcasm. Cloud remained speechless.

"Social stigmas, spiritualists, and mainstream media may strive to classify our species into sub-categories as they do at the Frozen Section of a Supermarket," Black proclaimed, "However, I will enjoy the pleasures of man or woman whenever I choose." A gloved hand reached out and tenderly set aside a strand of hair on Cloud's cheek. Soon, the Host asked, "And you, boy? Would you bed a woman just to follow the _rules_ of the establishment? Or would you reap the rewards given to us upon our creation?"

Still hunched in his spot with a hand covering his agitated groin, Cloud stayed within his safe bubble of silence. He didn't blink; didn't move. It was hard to reply when he partly understood the other man's perspective.

It wasn't that he didn't like girls. Cloud adored them. Like many teenaged boys with a raging hard-on, he enjoyed fondling the soft pubic mound between a woman's legs or licking the bizarre lips of a moist vulva with his tongue. But Cloud hadn't explored the unique surfaces of another man or tasted them. Growing up in the conservative country side, it was a taboo to like other boys. It was why he never considered the option.

"You should try it," Black suggested.

"Try what?"

"You should try running the tips of your fingers across the flat planes of another male's chest, boy."

Cloud instantly straightened up and removed his hand from the crotch. "… _W-what?_ "

As if to prove his point, the Host rested his gloved hand on the boy's shoulders. A thumb strayed and explored the shape of Cloud's collarbone. Then it followed the curve of a pectoral muscle until it settled on a particular spot. "You should _feel_ his beating heart."

Cloud held his breath. The hand stayed over his heart. Even with the cotton fabric of his shirt, he felt the imprint of the man's gloved hand. The non-stop thumping of his heart throbbed through both ears. With dazed eyes, Cloud intently listened to the strange man's words. They existed from another realm.

The tall man drew close to Cloud. A strong scent of vanilla drifted thick in the air. With his veiled face only an inch from Cloud's, he murmured directly into his ear, "You should feel the warmth of his breath tickle your skin and let it seep through you."

The boy softly blew out, unable to hold his breath anymore. The way Black spoke… He'd never heard anyone talk like that before.

"Perhaps when you realize he is a living animal with similar desires as yours," Black resumed, "you may indulge yourselves in exquisite fantasies and remove yourself from the public's status quo."

So close to each other, Cloud slightly turned his face toward Black. Their lips must've been an inch from each other, he faintly realized. It was hard to tell with the veil in the way. Through its meshed patterns, though, Cloud faintly saw starry green eyes. They stared intensely at him. A predator's eyes.

He exhaled again while his fingers twitched. Completely transfixed by those hidden emerald eyes, Cloud's hand rose. It reached up and stopped at the veils' hem. He touched it. A spark of determination surged within him. The rebellious boy tugged at the veil. He wanted to see that grotesque face everyone talked about. However, right as he lifted the veil up an inch Black grasped his wrist.

The motion was a blur. An instant. It happened so fast that Cloud didn't realize his hand had been stopped until he felt a resistance when he tried to pull at the veil again. He was enthralled by the man's insane speed.

"I'm up," Black informed in a no-nonsense tone. He released Cloud's hand and turned away from him.

Watching the long veil glide behind Black, Cloud was speechless. His entire body felt heavy. Black was certainly an unusual creature. The Host tossed out ho-hum, everyday trivial talk in favor of provocative ideals and concepts. Cloud wanted Black to keep talking. He wanted to listen to those deep rich sounds emanate from the depths of his throat. Unfortunately, the man was next in line. A stall had become available. It quickly reminded Cloud of his own peril state.

By now his half-awake member leaked a drop of piss in his drawers. Fuck. He hadn't realized how close he was to exploding until now. Cloud struggled to hold himself together and placed both hands between his legs now. If another stall didn't open soon he'd spoil his trousers and make a public fool of himself. Cloud's anxiety must've shown. Just as Black took a step forward, he paused and glanced back at him.

"You need to immediately relieve yourself too. Yes?"

Slightly embarrassed by his predicament, Cloud answered with a silent nod.

"Unfortunately, so do I," Black confessed, "I've had too much to drink tonight as well."

Cloud looked at the ground. He mentally counted to a hundred, hoping to distract himself from his body's demands.

"Join me, then," said Black.

Cloud cocked his brow, not quite understanding what he meant.

The other man noted his confusion and clarified, "We can share the same stall."

Cloud considered the offer. He shook his head. "Well, there's a chance another one will open so…"

The tall figure nodded. "Very well. Suit yourself then."

Black headed for the only opened door. Cloud mentally counted again and clutched his groin. His eyes quickly surveyed the area for a new opening. The good news: he was next in line. The bad news? Based on how long it was taking, Cloud suspected the stalls on this side were currently occupied by men secretly jacking off to the orgy. If that was the case he was doomed to wait a bit longer. This left only the urinals at the back side of the restroom. However, they were all still occupied.

With a bladder about to explode, Cloud was tempted to kick down a door and threaten someone's life in exchange for their toilet. But he ultimately decided against it. His best chance was to take up Black's offer. Without a word, Cloud hurried after him.

Their stall was the last door at the back row. Hopefully, Black would be fast about his business since Cloud needed to relieve himself ten minutes ago. He expected the man to quickly get inside it and hurry. Instead, Black casually stopped and turned to him.

"Come," he said. It sounded like a command.

Cloud frowned. "You want me to use it first?"

"No. Like I said, I'm in dire need of this as well."

"Fine. Go ahead and use it. I'll wait."

"You're welcomed to come inside with me."

The boy blinked slowly. He mentally replayed Black's words and was positive he either misheard or misinterpreted them. "…Excuse me?"

Black crossed his arms. In an amused sounding voice, he explained, "Unlike women, we can _both_ go at the same time. It's one of the benefits of having a rod that can shoot at a specific location."

Cloud fell silent.

"Well?" pressed the other man and opened the door. He stood at its entry.

Cloud's brows furrowed. "You mean… we _both_ take a piss? At the _same_ time?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Um…"

"You've used urinals before, haven't you? Same concept. You should be fine. Unless you are one of those reckless buffoons who cannot aim straight and splashes everywhere, in which case, wait your turn." Black stepped inside the stall and disappeared. His deep, leveled voice reached Cloud's ears again when he demanded, "Come inside before I leave you out there, boy."

Outside of the stall, Cloud was stumped. He tried to make sense of what was being proposed here. It seemed this man wanted to take a piss _with_ him. Crap. This was fucking worse than using a public urinal. He'd be peeing only a few inches away from a stranger with a semi-erect cock in clear sight.

Cloud soon felt another small trickle of urine soil his underwear. There was no more time to waste. Either he pissed on the floor with several eyewitnesses or suffered with only one. As fucked up as this situation was, Cloud reassured himself it would be okay. Black was likely drunk. He probably wouldn't remember his face after tonight. Hell, even if he did it was a big city. The chances of them running into each other again were slim to none. Neither of them knew the other's names. It would be okay. Yeah…

"Fuck it…" Cloud muttered to himself and entered the stall. He was drunk enough to agree with Black's insane idea.

Together again, Black closed the door behind them and secured it with a lock. It was just the two of them now, stuck inside a small compact space with only a porcelain toilet between them. There was an excellent view of live fish in the glass wall in front of them.

Cloud didn't breathe let alone talk. No matter how many times he mentally reasoned with himself, it still didn't make this moment any less awkward. Cloud considered turning around and letting the guy have some privacy. However, that still didn't address his immediate need to use the toilet right now. His concern was eventually cut short when Cloud noticed the tall man remove his leather black gloves.

The thick leather material slowly peeled off. As Cloud stood idly by, he saw slender fingers appear one by one. The nails were long and coated with silver paint. It was the first time the man exposed any skin. The teenager blinked; surprised they weren't burnt or disfigured as he had initially thought. The man's ivory skin was smooth and flawless. There were no unwanted blemishes, wrinkles, or popping veins. No signs of age or stress. The pale color served as a sharp contrast to the dark attire. It subtly glowed under the restroom's lighting.

Reactively, Cloud glanced at his own hands. Sweaty palms. Some cake frosting underneath unevenly cut nails he often chewed. Discolored calluses from constant sword practice. A few scars from the times he'd been careless with his blade. Cloud almost felt unworthy of seeing such beautiful hands next to his.

He couldn't stop staring. There was something sensual about the man's hands, the way they were curved and milk-white. Cloud wondered how red the blood would flow if the veins on his slender wrists were ever severed, especially against such porcelain skin. Within the depths of his young mind, a dark desire emerged. Cloud wanted to sink his teeth and cause that beautiful skin to bruise. These strange musings continued while Black's delicate fingers carefully placed the leather gloves inside his coat's pocket. They soon glided elsewhere.

It was the sound of an undone metal buckle that finally brought Cloud's attention to the man's current actions. Watching Black work the button of his expensive trousers, the boy's mind suddenly ran rampant with a collection of half-developed thoughts. Cloud didn't dare meet the man's gaze, fearful his curious nature would betray him. He set his eyes low and took a deep breath. The tips of his fingers twitched. In contrast, Black possessed all the ease and gestures of a talented artist. He was soundless and swift when he pulled the zipper down. Those same lovely fingers soon slipped inside the black trousers. A second later, they pulled out an impressionable muscle.

This was the first time Cloud observed another man's cock. He was surprised to discover it was semi-erect like his. A flushed tip barely poked out of the foreskin. Like the majority of city boys, Black had been cut. The trimmed foreskin conveyed a light shade of pink with a smooth and bumpy texture. The muscle was of noteworthy size despite its half induced state. Eight inches seemed to be the magical number it hit when stretched to the max, Cloud predicted. Black's size was definitely not small or ridiculously large. It was ideal. Cloud found himself studying the ragged line of one particular vein. It subtly popped up along the side of the shaft.

"Are you just going to stand there gawking, boy?"

The question returned Cloud back to the land of Gaia. Flushed at the cheeks, he quickly looked away from the notable vein. The audible amused sound from Black indicated he wasn't uncomfortable or upset by his intrusion though.

"Sorry. I'm just a bit…" Cloud cut himself off. He let his words drift into silence.

"You've seen one of these before," the other man testified and lifted the toilet's lid up with the heel of his black boot. "You obviously own one. There is nothing to feel embarrassed about."

Sure, he'd seen one before, Cloud thought. But it was _his_ , not anyone else's. Cloud tried to keep his wits about him. He miserably failed and fell into silence again instead. Even when Black's words made sense he didn't feel any better. He figured Black viewed this as a natural, non-sensual event since he'd been in the company of men. This was normal for the Host. Cloud, on the other hand, hadn't been with a guy. This wasn't an average, everyday event for him at all: it was completely new and surreal. Cloud licked his lips. When his bladder screamed at him again he knew he couldn't dilly-dally around the issue anymore.

"Go on," urged the man next to him, as if reading his mind.

The muffled sounds of the club's music and the moans from the nearby orgy bounced off the walls. Cloud focused on the electric beats and colorful fish that swam outside the glassed wall in front of him. It'd give him a nice distraction. He undid the button and zipper and revealed his own semi-hard structure.

Unlike Black, Cloud was all natural. Many country boys in the Nibel area weren't cut. Black's perfectly trimmed shape was a sharp contrast to the long, flimsy layer of loose foreskin that housed the entire head portion of Cloud's strained member. This made the teen more self-conscious. Seeing their cocks side-by-side like this, he was tempted to cover himself. Cloud forced himself to relax though. It seemed stupid debating which penis looked _prettier_ when the organ in question looked silly regardless.

Cloud held back a sigh. The bulging sight of veins that pulsed across his length was apparent. It was difficult to stay soft when the muscle between his legs reactively twitched. Whether it was because of the orgy scene outside or Black's dominating presence, Cloud did not know. Nor did he _want_ to know.

"How old are you, _birthday boy_?" Black inquired and broke their silence.

The mocking tone was apparent in Black's voice. Initially, Cloud chose not to reply in retaliation. He wasn't in the mood to talk anyway, not when he was exposed and mortified by his obvious condition. The other man didn't move or say another word though. Black expected an answer and was willing to wait for it. Reluctantly, Cloud revealed at last, "…Seventeen."

The other man turned his head away. Black aimed at the designated area and went about his business.

Cloud forced himself to commit the same action. Only half hard, he was still able to shoot into the bowl with no issues. He held onto the base with both hands and adjusted his stream so that it didn't overlap with Black's or cause unnecessary splash. Releasing excess from his bladder, Cloud instantly felt relieved. He averted his eyes back to the glassed wall in front of him to further relax. Along with the fish that swam about, there were words and pictures left behind by former occupants of this stall. A few phone numbers. Juvenile depictions of a penis. Quoted sermons of the end-of-days.

Cloud took a deep breath and continued emptying his bladder. He regretted not being drunk or high enough to completely dismiss this event as hilarious. Or ignore his natural curiosities. As he stood close to Black, it was almost impossible not to take in the shape of the other man again. Cloud's eyes drifted back to the protruding vein he noticed before. He admired the way it wrapped around the side like that.

At the other side of the restroom, the heavy sounds of sex continued. Cloud could hear a man's husky voice echo. " _There we go… There we go… Deeper. Harder. Fuck me harder… Yeah…_ "

The words were laced with primal lust; an intense want for pain and pleasure. As much as he wanted to blame the alcohol and drugs he'd consumed tonight, the erotic noises that erupted in the restroom did turn Cloud on. He closed his eyes. Admittedly, he enjoyed sex in the times he engaged in it. The rush of blood… The sound of hot, sweaty skin smacking loudly… The musk of his own ready cock… Those tiny details gave him pleasure. Perhaps it was the lack of it in his life right now that made him want it even more. Even when his conservative upbringing clashed with the sexual prowess of his youth, the vulgar act of sex permanently stayed in his ever-expanding mind. To witness an orgy and stand beside a man who offered him a clear view of his sturdy length… It awakened outraged yet excited thoughts.

Cloud exhaled through his mouth. He kept his eyes closed but sensed the taller man bend forward. He was grateful Black did not berate him for his silence, especially when he felt at odds with himself right now. Invading another man's intimate space provided him with a new experience. Cloud didn't anticipate how intense it would be until now. He refused to open his eyes, fearing it would push him back to his reality and cause him to break away.

Side-by-side, Black's veiled face felt not far away from his. Cloud could sense his presence and wondered if something would transpire between them soon. The possibility surprisingly did not terrify him. Just inches away from Black, that tiny gap between them almost made their distance unbearable. Cloud's breath hitched. Moments passed. A stillness settled in the air. Black drew closer. And then…

 _Flush_.

It was the sound of their toilet. Quickly opening his eyes, Cloud suddenly realized his companion was done. Black withdrew his hand from the sensory box that manually activated the flush. He now stood at full height. Slowly blinking, Cloud discovered his own bladder had been emptied. He was no longer shooting a stream. Dread gradually hit him though when he noticed something else. His eyes cast down. They widened in horror.

Cloud had been so lost in his thoughts, so lost in the moment, that he hadn't paid attention to the muscle in his hands until now. It stood at a proud six-and-a-half inches; rigid and pointed at a high angle. He was fully erect. When Cloud looked up, he found what he desperately prayed was not there. Fresh urine streaked down the glassed wall. _His_ urine. Cloud could feel the color drain from his face.

Careless. He'd been so fucking _careless_. Unknowingly losing control of his stream, he'd become one of those _reckless buffoons_ Black barked about earlier. This was worse than that time in Chocobo Chow when he ran out of toilet paper and hurried to the next stall, only to find none there either.

Fearful of a disgusted face hidden by the black veil, Cloud didn't dare look back at Black. He could already feel eyes on him. They'd been on him the entire night. This moment was no different. Cloud wasn't sure whether to stay quiet or dump his head inside the toilet water and commit suicide. The latter certainly beat living out the rest of his years with tonight's horrific memory at the back of his mind. It didn't help that the looming figure remained motionless either. Cloud wondered if Black was that mortified with him. The Host hadn't spoken a word since he asked for his age.

It was around this time Cloud caught something peculiar at the corner of his eye. He looked. Black's own member. Cloud saw that well-cut and perfectly shaped penis was stretched to full length. It stared up at the ceiling, all eight inches of it. That particular vein Cloud had taken a fond interest in now budged and expanded outward. He strangely felt relieved by this. Granted, Black hadn't been as foolish as him; he didn't piss on the wall. Still, he currently suffered from the same physical distress that haunted him. Black was rock-hard. It made Cloud's own fragile condition more bearable, even understandable.

He was a bit curious over what set Black off. However, his thoughts were cut short when the Host carefully slipped his sturdy muscle back inside his pants. A zipper pulled up, soon followed by a secured buttoned. Black unlocked the door and stepped outside without a word.

Cloud stayed in the stall. Dumbfounded. His teeth clenched together while he growled to himself. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ …"

The youth's face rushed with furious color. Smelling the stench of his own urine in the stall, Cloud quickly gathered toilet paper to clean up his mess. He muttered a slur of incoherent curse words. How could he have been so _stupid_? He was such an idiot. Shaking his head and continuously berating himself, Cloud managed to wipe off the piss. He dumped the toilet paper in the bowl shortly after and flushed it. Kicking open the door with his foot, the teen left the stall.

No surprise: Black was already gone. The entire restroom lacked his presence. No doubt, he quickly wanted to get rid of the pathetic teenager who'd pissed all over the wall. Like a reckless buffoon. Irritated again, Cloud approached a sink and washed his hands until they smelled of soapy mint. Then he marched out of the restroom, feeling moody as ever.

Cloud stood outside the restroom and decided it was best to return to the booth. He was ready to put this night behind him once the others were ready to leave. Even the desire to take someone home had died out. However, his body grew rigid when he spotted a familiar dark figure straight ahead.

Black stared back at him; his head cocked to one side. No sooner did Cloud spot him did the strobe lights flash on and off. Within a blink of the eye, he disappeared.

Cloud's mouth went dry. He wasn't sure if that was a figment of his imagination. Black wanted nothing to do with him. Right? Cloud's eyes shifted left to right. They wandered across the club scene in the hopes that what he saw wasn't just the illusion of a drunken and hopeful boy. When he relocated the mysterious Host at the dance floor, though, he confirmed his suspicions. Surprised, Cloud wondered how Black had crossed several feet of distance within a span of only a few seconds. It was impossible. No man could walk that fast. Yet, there he was. Cloud's heart quickened its pace when a ceiling light soared over Black. He vanished again.

Was this a game? An illusion? Did Black want him to follow him?

Cloud spent the next few minutes trekking the Host. He ventured deeper into the club and watched the tall figure drift in and out of the crowd; a mere shadow amongst the land of the living. One moment Black stood next to a pair of dancers, the next he was near a pool. Cloud wondered if the alcohol and drugs truly affected his perception. He had a hard time keeping up with him, especially when the darkness of the club cloaked Black. Glimpses of colorful light and holographs posed as constant distractions. A flicker of movement here; a flicker of movement there. Distinguishing reality from tricks of the mind became harder and harder. Cloud stood in a daze, feeling both tensed and excited. His stomach suddenly twisted at the sight of an ominous shape at the center of the dance floor, standing among a sea of moving people like a statue. Black looked to Cloud's direction. He waited. For him.

Cloud's eyes struggled to focus. Somehow, the music became distorted; slower. The bodies of dancers continued to move while a ceiling's blue light glazed over the entire dance floor. Black remained at his spot. It was clear he would remain there for however long it took Cloud to come to him. A familiar sensation brought the teenager to his senses. Thankfully, he was drunk enough not to care. If Black unveiled his maggot-infested face and swiftly decapitated his head, so be it. Yes, that sounded ridiculous. But in Cloud's compromised mind it was the inevitable conclusion for tonight's birthday celebrations. Black had, after all, burned off a woman's nipple. Either the Host wanted to dance with him. Or devour him. Far be it for him to reject such a challenge.

Suppressing whatever concerns that popped in his head, Cloud headed for the dance floor. Like a moth drawn to a burning flame, he mused. Even when he felt guilty for his unintentional actions in the restroom, Cloud was relieved Black still wanted to see him. He pushed his way forward. The crowd in the dance floor was tightly compacted. It was impossible to see past a few feet or gather enough personal space to avoid bumping into anyone. His ears throbbed each time the drums pounded in rhythm. He could hardly breathe within the mass of bodies. His delirious mind feared he'd pass out from a lack of oxygen before he reached Black.

Arms waved in the air. The attendees screamed in rejoice. Cloud's head shifted left to right, feeling lost and claustrophobic. He wondered where he was in relation to the center of the dance floor. Near? Far? Black was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had missed him. Or perhaps he stumbled into a wild goose chase. Licking his lips, he looked back at the direction of his booth. Cloud entertained the possibility of returning to the safe zone. Away from black shadowed figures. He shouldn't have come, a tiny voice whined. Cloud didn't know why he did, especially after he made a complete fool of himself in the restroom. He mentally scolded himself for his lack of good judgment.

Cloud frowned when he noticed the people in front of him stop dancing. They stepped away from him, as if to offer him space. But it wasn't out of courtesy. Cloud realized they weren't looking _at_ him: they were looking _behind_ him. Shortly after the realization hit, Cloud suddenly sensed that familiar dark presence from before. He could smell a vanilla scent in the air.

Cloud didn't get the chance to turn his body around to see Black again. Two slender arms wrapped around his waist from behind. The enigmatic Host pulled him closer until their bodies made contact. A puff of hot air escaped Cloud's lips. He felt the warmth of the other man's body transfer to his skin. His head unsteadied now, Cloud struggled to keep his balance. He still wasn't sure what to make of this. He didn't know why he'd come; why he was here. But it somehow felt right. Cloud closed his eyes. He pushed back against the tall figure behind him and, together, they danced.

Their bodies swayed back and forth. Unhurried. Carefully. Even while the other dancers moved fast and impatiently, they kept to their own beat. Cloud had never imagined himself dancing with another man. He started to understand Black's words earlier. Men were no different from women. Of course, this Host wasn't like other people. With his long veil and terrifying height, Black gave off a unique vibe. He was dangerous. Elegant. And extremely hypnotic. His mystery appealed to everyone, regardless of gender. Cloud doubted he was the only man in the dance club taken by Black's presence. It was this mutual feeling that helped suppress any unease. Cloud allowed himself to accept this bizarre moment for what it was without the fear of public scrutiny or harsh personal judgment.

Cloud gradually loosened his rigid posture and corresponded with Black's steady rhythm. They still hadn't faced each other. Pressed against his back, Black stayed behind Cloud. In a way it helped. It made the whole situation less pronounced. Cloud did not flinch when leather gloved hands explored his body. They slid dangerously close to his navel area before gliding up the long vertical path that divided his abdominal muscles. Tilting his head back and letting it rest on the man's sturdy chest, Cloud softly sighed and opened himself up more.

He'd never been the type to embrace his body's assets or indulge in foreplay. Only seventeen years old, the conservative country boy from Nibelheim was still learning the ropes of his sexuality. And patience. It was a strange period in his life, riddled with questions and social-related concerns. He just wanted to fit in. Nevertheless, Cloud dived nose-deep into the giant unknown. He felt the electric heat of his body intensify as he grinded against the other man. Another dizzy spell hit Cloud. His fully erect length ached for attention. Shifting uncomfortably against his inner thigh, it was trapped by the confines of cotton fabric. Cloud moved his hips in a small circle. He rubbed himself against Black's nether regions.

The music's momentum picked up. When the dark figure thrust his pelvic forward, Cloud reacted by pushing back to meet him. Despite the clothes that prevented actual contact, his body burned with want. This had to be the most erotic situation Cloud found himself in. And with a man no less. He did not care. Whether it was the alcohol or some idle curiosity that came forth with a vengeance, Cloud chose not to care. He'd worry about it another day.

Soon out of breath, the blond-haired youth opened his eyes. They drifted upward at first and absently observed the large lanterns and holographs that swam above them. Their forms sparkled and glowed. Cloud's clear blue eyes drew down. He watched dangerous, slender hands roam across his body. One slipped under his shirt. Foreign fingers teased the structure of his stomach's muscles. The other hand followed the length of Cloud's right arm until their hands interlocked. Black lifted his arm in the air and bent it slightly back toward him. The boy took note of the action and wrapped his arm around Black's neck. It brought them closer to each other. Cloud shuddered when two fingers clasped around his nipple and gently pinched it. Black lowered his head and brought their cheeks side-by-side.

"Do you feel this?" his steady voice reached his ears. "Do you feel _me_?"

Cloud sucked on his lower lip. He barely stifled a groan; his only response.

Covered by the veil, Black's breath blew against him when he slightly turned his face. Black-meshed lips grazed across the hot surface of Cloud's cheek. The boy didn't dare meet his face or stare into his covered green-lit eyes. There was something delicious about Black's complete anonymity after all. It gave the boy permission to divulge in any sinful fantasy without planting a specific face to it. Black could essentially become nobody. And everybody. He could even become his personal god and savior.

As their faces rested cheek-to-cheek and they danced, Cloud spread his legs slightly apart. The inquiring boy couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to be taken by behind. He had an idea of how men coupled. He saw it in full display back in the restroom. Initially, the idea grossed him out. Getting his shit shoved in didn't sound appealing at all. But as Cloud stood with his back pressed against Black's, he did enjoy the heavy mass of another man's body over him. The mere thought of Black violently mounting him like an animal was a terrifying vision that actually excited him.

Close together, Cloud used this opportunity to slide his body back and forth over Black's pelvic area again. He felt the budge he saw earlier and deliberately rubbed against it. For a second, Cloud thought he heard a soft chuckle from behind. But it could've been the music or some other dancer. The eager boy committed the action again though and hissed when that budge slid directly between his buttocks this time. Black placed both hands on Cloud's hips and guided the teen directly to him.

"…You smell of unrelenting lust, boy," Black's veiled mouth breathed out against his cheek.

The baritone sound of Black's voice resonated deep in Cloud. It coursed all the way to his toes and brought the tiny hairs at the back of his neck up to their ends. Cloud bit deeper into his lower lip when Black pushed into him again. Harder this time. They followed the music's lively beat like the rest of the crowd; all while simulating a provocative and vulgar act. A lingering moan leaked out from the boy's throat, soon lost to the loud music. Despite their layers of clothing Cloud could still feel him. He opened his legs a bit again to gather more of the sensation. Black's thrusts followed the song's fast tempo. His entrapped erection pushed against its intended location. Cloud's arm wrapped even tighter around the neck. It was partly to keep his balance and partly to encourage Black their vicious dance.

Gradually, Cloud's body coiled with friction and anticipation. Saliva filled his mouth. Any time he sucked in the air through gritted teeth he drooled at the corner of his lips. The teen could already feel his underwear grow damp by the transparent drops of pre-release juices. Cloud didn't care. He wanted more of this. He enjoyed being naughty and bold for once. Inwardly, the youth hoped they would continue this and bring each other to release. He wasn't far.

It was midway into their dance that Black unexpectedly turned the boy around. At last, they faced each other. Cloud swallowed hard, trying to breathe. Their budges directly touched. He could feel his tip boil. Somewhere within the teen's wild fantasies, he entertained the image of their hands digging deep into each other's pants. They'd mutually bring themselves to climax. However, Black made no move to push them closer together. Nor did he touch Cloud. Rather, Black observed him in that same calm, collected demeanor of his. The Host silently bowed his head and their foreheads touched. The dark veil hung between their faces as a type of barrier. Yet, the flimsy material also transported them to a private, more exclusive world. It was just the two of them now.

For Cloud, it was as close to a spiritual experience he could ever have. He recalled the time he entered a church in the city. There was an air of quiet solitude. Stillness. Feeling an invisible magnetic force draw them together, Cloud wondered if Black felt the same thing. Was this the special connection people wrote about in poems? Or performed in films? Cloud didn't pay attention to the club's music or people anymore. His universe revolved around black meshed fabric and hidden green eyes. Those eyes… they possessed all the simple desires of a predatory animal.

 _Despair_. It was a promise the child would never forget.

Feeling the breath of the other man through the veil, Cloud knew he was not the only one transfixed. Black stayed within an inch of him and didn't move away. His concealed eyes were locked on Cloud's blue irises. It was as if the Host was looking for something there. He apparently discovered it because one gloved hand gradually rose and touched the side of the boy's face. Reactively, Cloud rubbed his cheek against the leather. Inviting him to touch him more. It was such a radical reaction, especially on behalf of an otherwise traditional country boy. The memory of Black's beautiful pale hands came to mind and Cloud suddenly craved for skin contact. _Physical_ contact. He suspected Black felt the same way. Black's thumb now gently trailed the bottom of his fat lip and lingered there for a long time. Cloud surprised himself by sliding out his tongue and briefly licking the thumb there.

At this point, he debated on whether to lift the veil and steal a kiss. It didn't matter if Black's face was a distorted mess. Or if he was a guy. Or a Host. Or if it was the booze talking. He wanted to kiss him. Cloud waited a moment. Then he did the unthinkable and took the initiative. He grabbed the veil's hemline as he did before. Surprisingly, Black did not resist this time. The Host stood and watched him. Cloud waited another second before taking a deep inhale. He slowly raised the lacey black cloth inch by inch. Preparing to meet his bride, the boy was ready to seal tonight's unusual encounter with a kiss.

Cloud only got as far as uncovering the chin before he felt a hand on his shoulder from behind. The blunt action forced him to stop. Cloud looked back with a questionable frown on his face. He dropped the veil when burning blue eyes returned his gaze.

"Run along, silly boy," advised a red-haired man of tall height. It was one of the blue-eyed Hosts; the aristocrat. He soon added, "This one's fire burns too brightly for you. You'll likely be scorched alive under his touch."

The Host kept his hand on Cloud's shoulder. Effortlessly, he pulled him away from Black, as if he were a disobedient child. Cloud stumbled and nearly fell backward. He regained his footing and glared at him.

Indifferent to the reaction, the tall red-cloaked man stood between them. He turned away from Cloud and directly addressed the veiled creature. He murmured, "The wandering soul knows no rest, I see…"

Black simply crossed his arms behind him and stayed silent.

Confused by this intrusion, Cloud soon spotted the other two blue-eyed Hosts nearby. Their bizarre eyes shined like mirrors blazed with blue light. Approaching first was the raven-haired youth. He removed the e-cig from his lips and observed Cloud with an amused expression on his face. It was as if he knew some terribly funny joke. The lively boy kept silent though and merely covered his mouth to suppress a laugh. Next to him was the muscular Host. Thick brows pulled together. For some reason, this man looked displeased. He shifted his cool-blue gaze back and forth between Black and Cloud. When they finally stopped at the veiled man, he shook his head in silence. Clearly, he was not happy.

Cloud returned his attention back to the dark figure. He wanted an explanation. His skin boiled, however, when he found the red-haired Host now placing both his hands at the sides of Black's veiled face. He leaned forward and gently kissed the lips hidden behind the black shroud. Both men stayed close to each other. Intimately close. Cloud took a step forward; both shocked and severely pissed by this unpleasant change of events. One moment he shared bliss with Black. The next…

Cloud growled under his breath. He didn't care who this red-haired creep was, he wanted to punch him. The well-built Host with dark hair, however, abruptly blocked his path. His massive body loomed in front him. Glowing blue eyes penetrated Cloud again. This time the man's expression was warm.

"You'd do best to leave," he spoke in a soft but concise tone. His deep voice conveyed concern, perhaps even sympathy. With a sigh, he added, "Trust me, it's for the best."

The teenager felt his blood turn cold when the red-haired gentleman looked back at him. The finely dressed Host offered Cloud a smile that was anything but genuine.

"My friend, the fates are cruel," the Host announced in mocking fashion. He tenderly stroked Black's veil with idle fingers, still looking back at Cloud. "There are no dreams, no honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the goddess."

For some reason, his words sounded familiar. Cloud heard them before. However, at this moment he didn't care to know of their origins or significance. He wanted to wipe that smirk off his pretty face. The muscular man in front of Cloud stood his ground though and blocked him again. He was practically a human-made concrete wall. Against him, Cloud knew he'd be sent to the ground with one punch. This reality did not stop the teen as he still struggled to push past him. He needed to reach Black. Driven by wild emotions, Cloud was determined to fight on; to fight for that connection he felt. However, his spirit soon deflated when he looked over the big guy's shoulder. He caught a glimpse of Black.

The tall figure now danced with the red-haired Host. Under a collection of brilliant lights, their bodies pressed close to each other; their gazes locked. The red-haired man claimed Black's body. He slid his leather-clad hand between his legs and caressed the sensitive budge there. They were two beautiful and terrible beasts, standing together as one. Not once did Black look back at Cloud.

Cloud's shoulders slumped. His energy dissipated. He took a slow step back. Tight-lipped, the big guy in front of him noticed the defeat in his eyes and gave him space. He nodded his head though, as if to say he was making the right decision. It was time for him to leave. Relaxing his hands, Cloud forced himself to turn away. He noticed the raven-haired boy again. He no longer smiled or appeared amused. His blue eyes were soft; the shine dimmer. Like the big guy, he looked concerned. Cloud softly scoffed and looked away from him. He didn't _need_ his or anyone's sympathy.

Quickly, Cloud walked off the dance floor. The critical voice in his head snarled and ridiculed him as he cut through the crowd.

Once again, he'd made a complete fool of himself tonight. This was penance for all the dirty thoughts and actions that had transpired tonight. Or would've, at least. His soul would forever burn in hell for what he'd done or desired, Cloud bitterly thought. He quickened his pace. Glassed blue eyes burned but he fought back the unwanted sensation. Big boys didn't cry. Cloud refused to give in to his broken emotions. He'd been rejected many times in his life. However, this one admittedly hit deep in the gut. He felt a link with Black. He thought the feeling was mutual. But Ele' was right: Black was a giant cock-tease. The Host had played him like a puppet master. It was his job.

Entrapped in a sour mood, Cloud finally returned to his booth. He found Wedge awake. The others had returned from their dancing frenzy as well. All of them currently enjoyed a good laugh. Jessie was the first to notice and welcome him back with a shy smile. But Cloud silently slipped inside the booth and refused to look at anyone. He was back in his usual spot. In front of him he saw the table menu's interface. Even in his drunken state, he decided to order himself a few drinks to get over his inner turmoil. Across the table, Ele' noticed the tight-lip expression on Cloud's face. She frowned.

"What's up? You okay?"

Cloud's fingers danced across the table's menu without looking up at her. "Yeah. Why?"

"You look… off."

"I'm fine," he quickly dismissed. Cloud browsed through the drinks menu again.

"Haven't you had enough to drink?" Biggs snickered. Drunk himself, he rubbed his tired eyes with the palms of his hands.

Cloud ignored him. He selected a few options. Then he briefly paused and studied his hands. Even when they smelled of fresh mint, he had a strong desire to clean them again. He wondered if he still smelled of _unrelenting_ _lust_. Curious, Cloud asked no one in particular, "Do I smell funny?"

Wedge halfway snorted and laughed at the strange question. Meanwhile, Ele' and Jessie exchanged a puzzled look. Biggs merely shook his head.

"No, man. Why?"

"Never mind." Cloud's fingers flickered across menu. He ordered fifteen shots for himself.


	9. Weirdoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This is a dark chapter, fiends and beasts. It contains violence and implied situations with a minor. 'Hard Candy' and Kubrick's 'Lolita' are among my fave movies. Both feature underage, manipulative characters who are basically wolves dressed in sheep clothing. Expect to see that here._

**CHAPTER 8: Weirdoes**

It was roughly three-twenty in the morning when a light rain fell from the sky. Cloud and his companions walked down a long, empty sidewalk in the Entertainment District. Billboard and neon-lit signs flashed around them. Dazed from the night's events, they were on their way to a parking garage a few blocks away. It was time to head home. At this late hour the moon lit up brightly and the air was chilly. _Whoosh_ -like sounds came from the few passing cars that dashed across slick, wet roads.

Cloud's group stayed close together. Midgar always possessed an edgier vibe during these strange hours; wicked thoughts conspired and played out. Persistent dealers and thugs kept a watchful eye on potential targets while shady drivers cruised the streets to hire a warm body for pleasure. And of course, there were the weirdoes. They came out in droves to conduct all manners of perversions. It was because of this the group kept to the main roads and stayed in visible sight.

Cloud dragged his feet forward, his face puffy and red. With each step he took, the weight of gravity fought him. It was as if he were at the edge of a cliff, at the brink of falling. The vision ahead of him, meanwhile, consisted of blurred colors, lights, and shapes. They swirled all around him. At times he saw a small black shadow among them. It moved within the industrial landscape of the Sector 8. Cloud couldn't tell if the shadow was a mental trick played by his muddled mind, even when it had two arms and two legs. Nothing felt real to him anyway.

Swaying back and forth, Cloud wiped hot sweat from his brows despite the cool weather. He clumsily tossed his Chocobo Chow shirt over his left shoulder, tired of holding it in his sweaty palms. Cloud idly wondered if he should take off his heavy coat. He found himself too weak to remove it. A dizzy sensation threatened to tip him over but he held his ground.

"Are we _there_ yet?" Wedge asked beside him, addressing no one in particular.

The group shuffled their feet against the sidewalk's pavement as they walked. Biggs mumbled something in return, sleepy by the alcohol and late hour. Only Ele's reply sounded coherent enough.

"Almost. I think. Maybe. Just a few more blocks…" she said very slowly.

"Gods," Biggs complained. "That's what you said fifteen minutes ago."

"I said we're almost there. It's this way. Definitely this way, man. Don't be an ass. Relax."

"I'll _relax_ when I get home," he griped back and clutched the sides of his head with a moan.

Cloud kept quiet throughout their bickering. He, himself, was tempted to stop walking and take a nap on a nearby bus stop bench. It certainly beat dragging his dead weight across Sector 8's wet streets. Stuck in his half-aware state, he whispered out of the blue, "There are shadows everywhere. The shadow baby follows. It's been there since we left the club. It's come to take me away, I think…"

Ele' raised a brow at Cloud's bizarre remark. He had said it so calmly that it baffled her even more. Fully aware he was the drunkest of them all, though, she led the way without saying a word. She kept an eye out for any Shinra infantrymen on the streets, lest they'd be arrested for public intoxication.

They walked for a good ten minutes. The plan was to pick up Ele's car from the garage and have her drop them at the train station for their trip to the Slums. However, Cloud suspected they were either lost or Ele' had underestimated the walking distance since it was taking too damn long. His patience waned. He was tired. Thirsty. Disoriented. The world refused to stop spinning and a tiny dark figure kept appearing. Small matters of irritation started to build like certain street smells, loud noises, and flashing images. Cloud wanted to burn everything to the ground and find a warm bed to crawl into.

Sometime later, a car honked at Cloud when he accidentally strayed from the group and mistook the middle of a street for the sidewalk. The vehicle swerved and barely missed him. Brakes shrieked as the car came to a halt. Cloud's all-too-sensitive eyes burned from the blaring lights of the car's beams. The noise of its screeching tires still echoed in his head. With a blank look on his face, he approached the driver's side. His quiet and calm demeanor abruptly changed when he slammed his fist against a gray-tinted window there. The glass cracked at the point of impact.

"Watch where you're going," Cloud snapped with venom.

Trembling, the driver gripped the wheel with white knuckles. His wide-eyed expression stayed on the stiff-faced boy outside his widow.

The driver's silence started to annoy Cloud. It reminded him of all the preppy brats in Nibelheim, those stupid little boys who thought they were better than him and refused to talk back. The blond-haired teen sneered at the driver. "What are you looking at? You think I'm crazy? Get out of your car; I'll show you _crazy_. I'm real good with heavy sharp objects."

The drunken teenager banged on the glass again to goad the driver out of his vehicle. More tiny cob-webs formed on the window. Cloud looked ready to tear the driver's head off with his bare hands until Biggs and Wedge quickly intervened. Together, they pulled Cloud back to the sidewalk and gave an apologetic look to the driver. The driver sped off as fast as he could.

"Whoa, Cloud," Wedge started and blinked profusely, "You're terrifying when you're drunk…"

"I'm not drunk," Cloud denied. He spat out a wad of spit on the ground. "That car nearly ran me over. You saw it. I'll stab that fucker in the heart if I see him again."

Biggs exchanged a look with Wedge. Both boys held onto the unruly teen's shoulders, trying to steady him. And contain him. Cloud eventually growled and slapped their hands away. He created some distance and now stood in front of a large window display with finely dressed mannequins. His back pressed against the window's glass. Cloud glared at his companions when he noticed the puzzled looks on their faces. In his delirious mind, the expressions looked similar to the village kids', the same ones who all thought he was a freak.

"Stop looking at me like that," Cloud ordered with intense blue eyes.

"It's cool, man," Biggs said with a tiny smile that quickly broke apart a second later. "It's cool. We're cool. It's just… You need to chill a bit. You're not yourself."

"Not myself? What the hell does that mean? I'm _fine_."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to piss you off, bro. It's just that you're normally a quiet nice guy. You're kinda freaking us all right now."

" _Quiet nice guy_?" Cloud carefully repeated. At this, he snorted. "Wow, you dorks really are clueless…"

A slow smile stretched, even when Biggs appeared baffled by that last remark. Cloud's chuckle soon echoed across the empty block. His husky sound seemed to loosen the tensed atmosphere because now everyone awkwardly smiled. Laughing along, they all assumed it was a terrible joke. But for Cloud it wasn't. He had been brutally honest.

Silent now, the shade in Cloud's blue eyes darkened as he felt an ounce of pity and frustration toward his friends. Whether it was the booze or the drugs or sleep deprivation, an uncomfortable revelation struck him hard at this moment: no one knew who he really was. When he had busted the nose of a nagging customer last week, everyone assumed it was a momentarily lapse of reason on his part; an accident. Some even considered the act noble. Cloud had received only a write-up for it and the assault charges were dropped. No one wanted to believe he could be brutal enough to act out in violence.

They were wrong.

Cloud never mentioned his violent streak back at home to his friends. None of them knew violence was his coping device, a way to deal with the loneliness and anger that boiled inside. In truth, the real Cloud Strife, the misunderstood misfit of Nibelheim, had fallen in love with war and self-destruction. It was hard to think of anything else when he found only social alienation and indifference from his hometown. Nobody liked him and so hating on everyone and everything became second nature to him. Those feelings worsened after the incident in Mt. Nibel.

About the only moment that ever made Cloud feel alive was his near-death experience with a great wolf. Shortly after that event, he had developed a deeper fondness for hunting wild animals. It made him feel significant and superior. Like a God.

He had moved to the city in an effort to change his circumstances and mindset. In his naïve mind, becoming a Tsviet would put his violent habits to good use and give him a purpose. He could become a hero and not the villain in his story for once. And yet, Cloud still recalled the time when the village's priestess had visited his mother, just a day after he had broken a boy's arm during a fight. The priestess had called him a naughty boy; a very troubled, _corrupted_ soul. Cloud somewhat agreed with her assessment. On some days he wanted to save the world. On other days he wanted the world to burn.

Cloud grimaced. Leaning against a window display, an unwanted sensation swirled inside his stomach. Nausea. Making a face, he felt the vomit force its ways up his throat. Cloud clutched at his stomach with a hand. Then he turned away from the group and pushed his forehead against the glass, breathing hard.

"I need to puke or something…" he barely uttered out through clenched his teeth.

His friends stayed put. Their eyes darted back and forth.

"You think he'll be all right?" Jessie quietly asked. She sucked on her lower lip, deeply worried.

"He's good," Biggs reassured her. "Heh, Cloud isn't much of a drinker though. He'll be lucky if he remembers anything after he sleeps it off. Not bad for his first day as a seventeen-year-old, eh?"

Wedge shook his head. "He's been acting funny ever since he returned from the dance floor. He kept muttering about a black color pissing him off. A black crayon or something."

"Black isn't a color," corrected Ele'. She winced in disgust when she saw Cloud suddenly kneel over and puke on the glass wall. "For fuck's sake, how many drinks did he have?"

"A _shit-ton_ ," Biggs grimly reminded her while Cloud purged. "I'm surprised he's standing at all."

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the nausea temporarily subsided and Cloud tried to stand at full height. He failed. Fatigued and feeling worse than before, the teen leaned sideways against the display window for support. His eyes drifted below. Cloud silently watched chunks of vomit stream down the squeaky-clean glass while he overheard the group talk about him. His jaw reset itself.

Cloud hated being the topic of discussion, as if he were some charity case. Granted, if he were a sober man he might've felt guilty for his current behavior. Cloud didn't want to burden anyone with his pathetic state. He also didn't want to frighten the only people he considered friends with his strange tendencies. But at this moment, he couldn't care less for what they thought about him. He was numb to the point of indifference. About the only thought that tentatively surfaced in his head throughout the entire evening involved a man: Black.

Black. Black was gone from his life. He hadn't said goodbye. Not that Cloud expected him to. Black didn't strike him as the sentimental type. He was a strange creature who existed outside this realm of normalcy. Nonetheless, Cloud was disappointed by the lack of closure between them, especially when he thought he felt a connection.

Shortly after he had reunited with his coworkers at the booth and drank down his shots, Cloud had spotted Black one last time. It was the sight of his long, glorious veil. It had trailed behind Black as he exited Club LIFESTREAM with the other Hosts. That had been an hour before Cloud left with his own party. Black never did look back nor look his way. Just like that, Black was gone.

The image of Black with Red still burned inside Cloud's memory. It was a reminder of the brief but bitter encounter. If he were a stronger man he would've slashed off Red's pretty face and fed it to Ms. Tinker. He'd never regret the action, not when skinning wild sport was second-nature to the young hunter. But the event that happened between him, Black, and Red was over now. Black had departed from Cloud's life. All that was left to do was head home and sleep it off.

Cloud covered his mouth when the urge to vomit came to him again. Provided that he survived the night, he hoped he felt better by tomorrow. He still had a late afternoon class to attend. A dizzy sensation was getting the worse of him, likewise, his warped and out-of-controlled thoughts. He made a face when he noticed something on the glass's reflection.

"That shadow baby is back…" Cloud notified quietly. His unfocused eyes stared at the glass wall in front of him, seeing something the others hadn't noticed.

"Shadow baby?" Biggs asked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Shadow baby," Cloud repeated, talking gibberish again. "Behind you guys. It's kinda short. Not really a baby." As if to prove his point, Cloud turned around to point at a particular spot on the sidewalk. He froze when he realized something. Cloud frowned and later said, "…Not there anymore."

"Dude, you seeing things now?" Wedge scoffed. "Damn, you really are fucked up in the head. Remind me to never let you take blue dust again."

"The shadow baby was there," Cloud declared but had trouble controlling the volume of his voice. He stumbled forward and nearly fell in the process. Then he stopped at a specific spot on the sidewalk and pointed down with a finger. "Here. The shadow baby was _here_."

Both Ele' and Wedge snickered together while Jessie kept quiet. Biggs stepped forward from the group shortly after. There was a giant smirk on his face.

"Was it _Dr. Evil_?" he played along, "Is the mad doctor on the prowl tonight? Is he after you, Cloud?"

Cloud was too drunk to give a retort. His weakened legs finally gave way and he collapsed on the concrete ground with a soft thump. The world spun again. He groaned and shut his eyes.

"He's coming to get yoooou, Cloud," Biggs continued with an exaggerated voice pitch.

Almost immediately, Wedge marched over to Biggs and punched him on the arm. "Gah, stop it, man. It's not funny. That Dr. Evil shit is real, you know."

"Shh! I think I hear him!" Biggs continued and ignored Wedge. He looked down a street and noticed a lonely car driving up. He pointed at it. "See? It's him. It's Dr. Evil. That's his car. That's the car the mad scientist uses to abduct his victims. He's come to get Cloud. We should probably hide."

Somewhere in the distance, car beams shined. Its engine hiccupped loudly. This caused the entire group to go silent, including Cloud. Wedge huddled closer to Biggs while Ele' gripped her PHS, as if to use it as a weapon. Jessie took a few steps toward Cloud. She looked ready to pull him off the ground at a moment's notice. All five drunken teens stayed still until the car finally came into better view. It was an old sports car model. Quickly driving past them, the group breathed again. It was nothing. Wedge's face contorted to a disapproving pout when Biggs burst into laughter.

"Gaia, the looks on all of your faces!" Biggs blurted, "It was priceless. You guys seriously thought it was Dr. Evil? Oh man, you guys are fucking idiots!"

"Shut up, man, you were pissing in your pants too," Wedge spat. The larger teen punched him again, nearly knocking Biggs to the ground this time. "Asshole."

As Jessie helped Cloud get to his feet, the blond-haired boy mumbled an obscenity under his breath as well.

Fucking Dr. Evil… He was a popular online myth. The stories described Dr. Evil as a mad scientist who stalked the city late at night in a beat-up pinto. He searched for fresh bodies to experiment on. Drugging his victims with a syringe, the _successful_ experiments would find themselves in a tub of ice with a cellphone nearby to call for medical attention. To their horror, these victims would discover their bodily organs had been removed and replaced by bizarre alterations. They lived the rest of their lives as freaks. As for the _failed_ experiments? They were taken to some undisclosed location and never seen or heard from again.

It was all bullshit, Cloud knew. The Dr. Evil folklore legend had been intended to frighten brats like him; to get teens off the streets by night time. But even in a thriving metropolis like Midgar City, people talked. Rumors spread. Online, there were photos of supposed 'freaks' who'd been the unwilling subjects of a mad man's experiments. Some had committed suicide, too horrified to live with their condition. With so many strange and unexplained disappearances happening in Midgar City, including the number of fleshy corpses that randomly popped up, it was hard to entirely dismiss Dr. Evil.

Thunder rumbled in the sky. A bit wearier of their nocturnal surroundings, Cloud and his party cut through Thirty-Fourth and Thirty-Fifth Street to get to the parking garage quicker. It was quieter in this area of Sector 8. Even while the billboard signs still blinked and a few animatronics stayed alive, all of the restaurants and stores were closed. At the other side of the street was a massive metal fence. It surrounded a construction site for a strip mall. A lonely bus stop sat in the middle of the sidewalk across.

The group was ready to cross another street when Cloud abruptly stopped walking. Nauseous and tired, his intoxicated mind decided this was the perfect spot to rest. Cloud plopped himself in the middle of the sidewalk without saying a word. Using his Chocobo Chow shirt as a pillow, he lay on his side and closed his eyes. He ignored the light rain that continued to fall and immediately went to sleep.

"What the fuck?" Ele' immediately kneeled next to Cloud and tapped him on the shoulders. Cloud did not wake up. Looking around, she hoped there weren't any Shinra IMs around the corner to arrest the inebriated fool. Luckily, only a car passed by and no one else appeared in this area. Again, Ele' tapped him, this time harder. "Cloud, damn it, wake up."

"Mmm, gimme a sec, mom…" Cloud mumbled back and huddled inside his thick coat for warmth. His mouth started to drool over the wet, cold pavement he slept on.

"Fuck, man, you're sleeping in the middle of the sidewalk like a bum," Biggs spat. He tried not to laugh. "C'mon, Cloud. Get on your feet. We gotta keep moving. The parking lot shouldn't be far now. Ele' will drop us at the train station and I'll walk you home."

The dead-drunk teen below moaned incoherent words under his breath. He rolled to his other side, away from the group, and continued to sleep. Wedge kicked at the body. It was partly to wake Cloud up and partly to make sure he was not dead. A few feet away, Jessie covered her mouth. She hid the goofy grin on her face with both hands. Cloud was thoroughly wasted; beyond all reason and hope.

"Well, we can't go any further," Ele' announced with a sigh. She crossed her arms. "Even if we drag him along, an IM will surely spot us."

"We'll have to bring the car around to pick him up then," Biggs agreed with a nod.

"In that case, let's get Cloud off the sidewalk right now," Jessie suggested. "We don't want any Shinra troopers to see him like this."

Both Biggs and Wedge exhaled loudly and reluctantly grabbed Cloud from under his armpits. They dragged their fallen comrade to a nearby restaurant's patio. Placing Cloud at a table next to a large artificial tree, Biggs rested his face on the Chocobo Chow shirt. He opened the table's upraised umbrella to keep him dry from the drizzle.

"Aw, man…" Wedge whined afterward and rubbed the sides of his head. "I feel like my melon is gonna explode. I'm totally not looking forward to the trip below. I just wanna sleep."

"Me too…" agreed Biggs. He slightly wavered to the left but regained his balance.

"You guys can crash at my place," Ele' offered. She yawned and later admitted, "I don't think any of you are in any condition to travel to the Slums. The gangs are bad down there at this time."

"Seriously? We can stay at your place? Sweet!" Wedge beamed. Then he looked at Cloud and nodded at his sleeping form. "But what about him? You got room for Cloud at your place too, Ele'?"

Before Ele' could reply, Jessie chimed in: "I-I can take care of him."

Everyone turned to her with a look of surprise.

"I live in the Slums too and need to head back anyway for my morning shift at the car shop," Jessie explained, her voice small and quiet. "I can t-take Cloud with me. My car is only four blocks away."

Ele' raised a brow. "Wait. I thought you were a Plate resident. You're in the Slums?"

"Mm-hm."

"Isn't it kinda pointless to have a car then? Access to the underground is limited to the train. There's no road that leads down there."

A tiny smile formed across Jessie's lips. Her voice sounded more confident when she said, "Not unless you got the whole schematics of the city and know the tunnel that can _also_ access the underworld."

Ele' cocked her head to one side. "I wasn't aware such a thing existed."

"It's a spiraled shape service tunnel that runs within Midgar's main pillar structure," Jessie revealed, "It's reserved for the Urban Development staff. Construction workers have been using it to commute back and forth while they work on the outer wall structures of Midgar's plate and pillars. High-ranked Shinra officials have also used it for emergencies."

"Aren't there security protocols though?"

"There are. But I mimicked a legit badge to bypass security. And because so many construction workers use the tunnel, as far as anyone is concerned, I am a part of the Urban Development team."

Ele' sounded impressed when she inquired, "How did you access this information? I thought you were just a car mechanic, Jessie."

"You're looking at a genius," Biggs butted in with a proud look on his face. He put an arm around Jessie's shoulder. "She is a fucking wizard with the computer."

Jessie softly scoffed. "Er. I-I wouldn't say I'm a _genius_. I just know my way around with a computer."

"Fuhito, himself, gets some of his information from her," Biggs added. "Jessie's a part of his AVALANCHE movement. It's kinda cool."

"Fuhito is an environmental nut job," Ele' dismissed quietly. She glanced at Cloud's sleeping form afterward and returned her attention to Jessie. "You sure about this? I mean, I can take him with us."

"It's no inconvenience to me. Really. I'm headed below anyway and can take care of myself. At least Cloud can sleep things off at his home and not worry about riding the train with a big hangover in the morning." Jessie looked up at the sky. The drizzle fell faster and lightning flashed.

Next to her, Biggs frowned. He looked at Jessie. Then at Cloud. Then back at Jessie. Something clicked in his head and almost immediately, he suggested, "Maybe Cloud is better off crashing at Ele's place instead." He grinned and told Jessie, "But you can take _me_ home."

Jessie slowly removed Biggs' arm from her shoulders. She stood next to Cloud and addressed Ele' again. "You guys should go now before the rain really comes down."

Ele' held back a chuckle when she noticed Biggs shove both his hands deep into his pockets and glare at the motionless body of Cloud. Then she turned to Jessie and simply said, "Have _fun_."

A rosy color filled Jessie's cheeks.

To Wedge and Biggs, Ele' silently motioned for them to follow her. Biggs mumbled a few quiet words but ultimately trailed after the girl. Wedge waved a goodbye to Jessie. Then he joined the two. Their figures crossed a street corner and disappeared at the next block.

Staying behind with Cloud, Jessie checked his forehead for a temperature. There was a moment of silence, accompanied only by the gentle sounds of light tapping from the drizzle. Jessie's hand stayed on Cloud's face a moment longer. The dim light in her brown eyes softened. Jessie studied specific features while one finger set aside a stray hair from his cheek. The small gesture stirred Cloud awake.

" _Mm? What?_ " Cloud started. With sluggish movements, he lifted his head up from the table and frowned. "What's going on? Where is everybody?"

Cloud saw no one else aside from the strange brunette-haired girl standing next to him. He vaguely recognized the street. The entire block was quiet, save for a distant siren and low-sounding thunder above. Cloud wiped saliva off the corner of his mouth with a thumb as he studied his surroundings again. Then something caught his attention. He blankly looked ahead at the fenced-off construction site. His eyes stayed glued to the large Shinra billboard sign posted there. Cloud pursed his lips.

"Shadow baby…" he muttered, not making any sense again.

" _Shadow baby?_ " Jessie repeated and stared at the same direction Cloud looked right now. She saw only a large Shinra advertisement sign covered in shadows. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Returning her eyes back on Cloud, she dismissed his paranoia and soon informed, "Um, th-the others have gone ahead. I'm gonna take you home right now. Y-you, uh, feeling better?"

"The others are gone?" Rubbing the back of his aching neck, Cloud looked away from the construction side. He pieced together what Jessie just disclosed and sighed. "You should've gone with them. No need to stay behind for my sake. I'll walk to the train station by myself, thanks."

Jessie made a funny sound through her nostrils. "Don't be silly. You were sleeping on the sidewalk just moments ago."

Cloud blinked. "I was?" His brows pulled together when he realized he was at a patio. He had no idea how he got there.

"Yea," Jessie confirmed with a soft chortle. "You're in no condition to move."

"I'm fine though," he insisted. "You don't have to stay. I can take care of myself."

As if to prove his point, Cloud tried to rise from his seat. His unsteadied legs wobbled back and forth under his weight. Nausea hit him the moment his sense of balance shifted too quickly. Cloud covered his mouth and tried to swallow the bile down. It was too late. Quickly, he fell toward the large artificial tree next to his table and puked inside its pot.

"Just sit tight while I get the car," Jessie implored and bit on her lower lip. "I'll be back fast. I-I promise."

Cloud wanted to protest but couldn't. Jessie hurried off while he spilt more of tonight's contents into the unfortunate tree pot. In his drug-induced paranoia he feared he'd vomit blood or a vital internal organ. He obviously did not. Completely alone now, Cloud wiped his mouth with a hand and breathed hard. Like a ragged doll he lay sprawled across the patio's bricked floor. Cloud felt a little better. A good day's worth of rest would greatly improve his condition, he mentally concluded. Unfortunately, now that his stomach had calmed an unpleasant flavor settled over his tongue.

With the light rain still falling, Cloud crawled out of the protection of his table's umbrella. He raised his head and caught a few raindrops in his mouth to rinse off the bitter, acidic taste there. Almost immediately he stopped and grimaced. "Gross…"

Cloud hadn't noticed it until now. Whereas the rain back home was fresh and clear, the rain in Midgar City tasted funny. The flavor was too sweet and thick, like syrup. Cloud studied the orbs of mako energy in the sky. They continued to leak from the mako reactors and dance in the air. Even the thick clouds above emitted a soft green glow. Licking his lips, Cloud recalled the conversation he shared with Biggs.

His coworker had claimed mako was poisonous. Cloud's mother felt the same. She denounced Shinra as a constant polluter of the planet. Cloud dismissed these declarations as personal prejudices. The idea Shinra would knowingly contaminate the air with toxics sounded ridiculous, especially when mako energy had always been a part of the planet. The entire human race would've died ages ago if it was bad. Even so, the taste in Cloud's mouth right now did inspire many questions. He watched the tainted raindrops collect on the bricked pavement and wondered if there was some truth to the stories.

Cloud paused from his thoughts when a small black shape appeared at the corner of his eye. It came from the construction site; the same spot he had noted earlier. Cloud moved behind the artificial tree to stay out of view. Then he squint his eyes at the large Shinra billboard sign. Was it his imagination again? No. It was the _shadow baby_.

Cloud called it a shadow baby because it was no more than four-feet tall. Small and thin. The shadow baby currently walked away from the billboard sign it previously stood beside and now appeared on the sidewalk directly across Cloud. The tensed teen remained behind the tree trunk, too reluctant to move. His vision blurred while his heart thumped faster. A moment passed. The figure stepped into the light of a street post. As the image came into clearer view, Cloud's lips parted. It was a boy.

The child carried a very large, black lacey umbrella over his head. Casting a deep shadow over his face, Cloud only noticed the child's finely dressed attire: a private schoolboy's uniform. It was composed of dark olive-green colors that looked black under low lighting. The boy donned the standard necktie, shorts, calve-high socks, and glossy ankle shoes. His white collared shirt was layered by a well-fitted vest and double buttoned jacket. This boy was obviously a high-class citizen of the Plate.

When the preppy boy playfully twirled the umbrella to one side, Cloud caught a glimpse of his profile. Plush lips were the perfect shade of ruby pink. The lashes were long and thick. His flawless, porcelain-white skin seemingly glowed under the streetlamp's lighting while his hair shined with a peculiar silver color. Cut into a stylish bob, the boy's long bangs were shifted to one side of his face and held back by two crossed pins. Had it not been for his gender encoded uniform, Cloud might've mistaken the child for a girl. The pretty schoolboy looked somewhere below ten-years-old. Despite his tender age, he strolled alongside the tall metal gate of the construction site with an air of confidence. His naked fingertips carelessly glided through the chained-link fence and produced a soft _cling-cling-cling_ sound.

Rain continued to fall, this time in thicker drops. The boy's face became an assortment of shadows beneath his umbrella again. Approaching a lonely bus bench, he stopped and took a seat. His umbrella stayed over his head while he removed a large lollipop from his well-tailored jacket. For Cloud, it was strange seeing a schoolboy at this time of the night. He wondered where his guardians were or if he was a runaway. Cloud's eyes soon drifted to the sweet treat in the boy's hand. It glowed and shared the same green color as the orbs of mako energy flying in the sky. The child undid the plastic wrapping and stuck the lollipop inside his mouth. Then he looked at Cloud's direction. Visible large green eyes gleamed. The boy somehow knew he was behind the tree. For whatever reason, his lingering stare reminded Cloud of… Black.

Studying him, Cloud debated on whether to approach the child or not. It seemed odd to spot him at a place like this. Either his presence was a coincidence or he'd been following him this whole time. After all, the shadow had appeared ever since Cloud left Club LIFESTREAM. It showed up everywhere. At least that's what Cloud thought. He wasn't quite sure of it himself. It could've all been one grand illusion; an illusion created by a reckless teenager who couldn't think straight at the moment. Cloud softly blew out air from his mouth. Regardless of why the boy was here, it didn't feel right to leave him alone. He was better off hitching a ride in Jessie's car than waiting out here for the bus during this late hour.

Just as Cloud decided to talk to the boy, a vehicle soon appeared at the street. He momentarily froze. The car was a high-slick vintage model with four doors and a bronze paint job. Hard gill went into the rim tires. The car rode along the path until it slowed down and got closer to the bus stop. Behind the tree, Cloud kept out of sight. His shoulders turned stiff.

He was still paranoid by the Dr. Evil spook earlier and feared the worse when the vehicle stopped in front of the child's bench. Cloud held his breath. He expected a sinister scientist dressed in a white lab coat to pop out with a bloody syringe. Instead, an old well-off fellow in his late seventies emerged from the vehicle with a gold cane. He sported a beige penciled suit and a thick grey beard. The elder wobbled toward the bench with his cane and took a seat next to the child. He spoke a few words but the schoolboy kept sucking on his lollipop.

Cloud remained unnoticed by Greybeard and his two servants in the car. He couldn't overhear the conversation across the street. It was said in soft whispers. He assumed the rich man thought the same as he did and wanted to give the boy a lift. Cloud's lips drew into a thin line though when Greybeard placed a trembling, wrinkled hand on the child's thigh. The elder leaned closer to whisper something into the boy's ear. Then he planted a wet, sloppy kiss on his cheek. It was a simple yet bizarre kiss. Cloud didn't understand the awkward vibe he got from it or why the knots in his belly suddenly tightened. This uneasy feeling only intensified when the silver-haired boy responded with a giggle.

It was a lively, brilliant sound. Innocent and very child-like. Even so, Cloud detected notes of indifference and mockery in the boy's melody. He saw the boy lick his lollipop again while his large green eyes illuminated brightly. Eerie eyes reflected all the dark lust of a predator.

" _Such a pretty little boy…"_ Cloud overheard Greybeard coo.

The old man made a gesture with a shaky, boney finger. He pointed at his car. Several times he did this, begging the boy to come with him. When the child did not comply he kissed the child's cheek again and again and again, as if he were worshipping a prized pet. Cloud winced in disgust. Great. A weirdo, he realized. The smacking sounds of Greybeard's loud, clumsy mouth reached his ears all the way across the street and caused his insides to turn. Cloud was already put off by the old man's appearance. He despised his pale flaky skin, his beady black eyes, and the pattern of discolored aging spots across his bald scalp. Cloud imagined all sorts of discarded food particles stuck inside that thick grey beard. The thought of it sickened him.

 _"Pretty, pretty boy,_ " the old man said in between his wet kisses, " _Yes, a pretty little darling…_ "

Cloud was relieved when Greybeard finally stopped kissing the boy. A hoarse-sounding laugh now erupted from him. Cloud noticed the slobbery mess he left behind on the child's cheek. It shined with a thick layer of saliva. The teenager was repulsed by it all, especially when Greybeard appeared more proud than ashamed of his work. The old fart took the small boy with both his scrawny arms and set him on his lap. He wrapped an arm around the boy's thin waist. The other hand settled back on the thigh again and traced the bottom cuffing of his shorts. Slowly rocking him back and forth, Greybeard hummed a lullaby to the child.

Cloud halfway scoffed from his hidden spot. He expected the schoolboy to push Greybeard off or run away. At the very least, yell for help. But the silver-haired child did neither. In fact, he seemed unbothered by the whole event. His free hand kept twirling the handle of his large umbrella while both legs bobbed up and down as he sat on the old man's lap. He ran the flat side of his lollipop along his bottom lip before taking it deep inside his mouth. A second later he removed it with a loud pop. The boy was obviously indifferent to Greybeard's actions. Even as the elder tried to tickle him, he didn't laugh. Green eyes eventually found Cloud again. They stayed on him for a while.

The elder cooed at the boy one more time. Despite his failed attempts at tickling him, Greybeard continued to touch him. His fingers explored the visible bare areas of ivory skin. The crane of his neck. The top of his knees. It was when a thumb slipped beneath the fabric of his shorts that the child removed the lollipop from his mouth and finally faced Greybeard. Time crawled to a stop.

Cloud leaned forward from his spot to get a closer look of them. He saw the child hold the lollipop between two fingers. His palm slowly touched the surface of the old man's head and followed along its egg-like shape. The boy's green eyes shimmered. There was a look of fascination across his youthful face, as if the sight of a wrinkle-faced man delighted him. Perhaps the sharp contrast of age struck his childlike curiosity, Cloud wondered. He saw a gentle smile form on the boy's ruby-pink lips. Underneath the light of the nearby streetlamp, he looked like an angel.

The boy really was beautiful. Cloud couldn't deny this. In a way, he understood Greybeard's fascination with the child, even if the reasons bothered him. His long limps and peculiar features… he seemed almost too lovely for this world. There was definitely something special about him. And familiar. Again, Cloud thought about Black. He recalled the Host's grace and silence. He remembered the predatory vibe he emitted. Black was beauty and beast wrapped into one. It was the same for this boy. His green eyes possessed all the vigor of a deprived wild animal.

Greybeard held the child closer to him with both arms, pressing their cheeks together. It was at this point the large umbrella shifted directions. Cloud caught a brief smile from the schoolboy before he and the old man disappeared behind it. Their faces were now blocked from his view. Cloud frowned.

He knew the boy had intentionally moved the umbrella to that position. Only he was aware of his presence and exact location. The action admittedly annoyed Cloud for reasons he either did not know or want to admit. Sitting in complete silence, his curiosity eventually got the best of him and he tried to pick up on anything that transpired behind the large umbrella with his ears. Cloud managed to hear Greybeard's voice. Because the elder spoke in hushed tones he couldn't make out what he said. His ears did pick up a familiar, awful wet sound. Cloud chewed on his lower lip as it grew in volume.

The longer Cloud listened to the two the more awkward he felt. In all honesty, he couldn't decide whether he wanted the noise to stop or continue. He had a funny feeling the schoolboy suspected this too because the distorted smacking sounds resumed without opposition. It was as if the child deliberately wanted Cloud to hear them. The blond-haired teen suddenly felt dirty as he debated what went on beyond the lacey umbrella. The material of it was too thick to make out any silhouettes. Cloud's mind raced with many wild possibilities. They ranged between the vulgar to the horrendous. Had he become a weirdo too?

Staring at the umbrella nonstop, Cloud developed an urge to walk over there and chop off the elderly man's shriveled balls. It would serve him right. He had no right to touch the forbidden fruit. These dark thoughts continued until the irritating wet noises finally stopped.

Cloud froze in place when a low moan emerged shortly after. It was a long and very deep sound. Raspy. Cloud became disturbed by its single, lingering note. Changing in tone and volume, this groan grew louder. And louder. The tiny hairs at the back of Cloud's neck rose. His face turned pale white when a wail abruptly switched into a high-pitched scream.

It echoed loudly across the street. Even while the rain fell and an adorable Cactuar cartoon danced across a flashy billboard sign close by, it continued. A dull, thick sound finally interrupted the scream. It was followed by a strange gurgling noise.

From the ground, Cloud clung to the tree trunk with both hands and breathed hard. The blood rushed to his head. He didn't know what the hell just happened. The blood-curling scream seconds ago had him in fight-or-flight mode. Cautiously, Cloud rose to his knees from the ground. His sense of balance was worth shit but he held onto the tree. He took a small peek around the corner and noticed the umbrella had moved aside. Cloud was almost too terrified to get a better look but dared himself anyway.

Across the street, the boy and old man appeared in his sights again. At first, Cloud didn't understand what he saw. In his dazed, drugged state the whole scene appeared almost comedic. Greybeard rapidly pulled away from the child. That bizarre gurgling sound Cloud heard came from him. For whatever reason, his mouth and the child's were filled with crimson. The old man fell backward. His fragile bones cracked the moment he hit the hard pavement. Cloud was surprised he didn't accidentally snap his neck in half. Sitting on the bench with crossed legs, meanwhile, the silver-haired child cocked his head to the side and played with the umbrella's handle again. He silently watched the old man whither in agony with unblinking crystal-green eyes. The child currently chewed on something that wasn't his lollipop.

It was around this time the driver and other servant stepped out of the fancy car. Both of them were six feet tall and somewhere in their forties. They ran to the old man's side and squatted next to him. Cloud observed them with mild amusement. He still wasn't sure what to make of this due to his disoriented senses. The weird sounds the elderly man made on the ground were either of a wounded animal or a bitch in heat. Cloud stifled a chuckle at the latter thought. As he watched Greybeard's broken body, he admittedly took some satisfaction in it. Cloud recalled his own encounter with a pervert at the train earlier this morning; the businessman. Those feelings of anger and resentment returned. Cloud's piercing blue eyes stayed on the wounded elderly man. He almost smiled.

" _You little brat!_ " suddenly cursed one of Greybeard's companions. " _I'll kill you!"_

Cloud noticed the two men lunge for the boy. He frowned when his vision abruptly blurred. Across the street, the silver-haired child moved from one spot to the next at rapid speed. Lines of light and colors swirled around his small frame. Surely this was not real, Cloud thought. It had to be the chemicals in his body creating this illusion. There was no way anyone could move _that_ fast. Nonetheless, the child appeared next to Greybeard's car a second later. He climbed on top of its expensive hood and sat on the roof with crossed legs. His red-soaked mouth swallowed down whatever he'd been chewing on.

It was raining hard now. The chilly air bit into Cloud's skin. One hand dug deep into his coat's pocket and gripped the PHS there. For a moment, he contemplated on calling for help. It was the only idea he could think of. It seemed like the right thing to do in this situation. Cloud paused from this thought though when both of the servants removed a switchblade. These guys meant business. They wanted to kill the boy for what he'd done to their master. Cloud had no idea what Greybeard's condition was from his spot. The elder kept thrashing about on the sidewalk. Those terrible gurgling sounds continued. Cloud's hand slowly let go of the PHS.

Even if he called for help there were no Shinra IMs in the immediate area. By the time they arrived, the child would be dead. Admittedly, Cloud also didn't want to involve the authorities for his own sake. He couldn't risk getting scanned for illegal substances. They'd arrest him indefinitely once he checked positive for them. Getting to his feet, Cloud grabbed his Chocobo Chow work shirt from the table and decided to take matters into his own hands.

He knew none of this was his business. And truth be told, he felt Greybeard got what he deserved. But Cloud couldn't stand back and watch two grown men charge after a kid. They were better off leaving him alone and getting their master to a nearby hospital. Perhaps if he knocked some sense into them the situation would diffuse itself. That's what Cloud hoped for anyway. Taking a few steps forward, he ignored his raging headache and upset stomach.

All sense of reason nagged at Cloud as he crossed the road, his legs feeling like clay. Reason told him this was a bad idea and to call for help. He ignored it and hurried anyway. By the time Cloud reached the other sidewalk, the situation got bad. Both men surrounded the car. One of them reached for an ankle to grab the boy. He hollered in pain when his hand was smacked by the large umbrella. The child laughed, taking delight in their feeble attempts to catch him. It was a game to him. His lips glistened with red. When he suddenly noticed Cloud a few feet away, the boy stopped laughing and stared at him.

The teenager felt naked under the child's heavy gaze. From where he stood, Cloud got a closer look at his eyes. A mystifying jade color, they glowed with the same brilliant intensity of the blue-eyed Hosts he had met tonight. But there was something different about the child, something more. He wasn't like the others. With slant-like pupils, similar to a feline's, Cloud was taken aback by this angelic yet strange child. His blood-red mouth formed a small, very sweet smile. It was as if he'd been expecting him.

Greybeard's weak moans reached Cloud's ears nearby. The teen looked back at the old man on the ground. He definitely needed medical attention since there was blood all over the sidewalk. When Greybeard opened his mouth to mutter something, Cloud realized the old man couldn't talk: he had no tongue. It'd been ripped off.

The ghastly sight of him prompted Cloud to take a step back. In all of his years of hunting, he'd never seen anything like this before. But there wasn't time to understand or accept this horrific discovery. Wild and intense, the men that were after the schoolboy hastily climbed the car with knives drawn out. Their blades scrapped against the car metal as they tried again and again to climb without slipping. The falling rain prevented their progress but Cloud knew it wouldn't last for long. He quickly snapped out of his bewildered daze. Dropping his Chocobo Chow work shirt on the sidewalk, the teen approached one of them from behind. He held the hand that gripped the knife by the wrist. Cloud entangled the man's other arm with his own and pulled him away from the car.

" _Back off,_ " Cloud ordered as he wrestled the man. Even when his pupils were over-dilated and he had trouble just standing, his voice still carried an even and hard tone.

The two servants must not have perceived him as a threat or dismissed him as a drunk since neither of them reacted to his presence until now. The man in Cloud's grip tried to break free.

"Who the hell are you?" he barked.

"Someone who isn't going to tell you twice." Cloud's hand squeezed the man's wrist tighter to indicate he meant business. "You and your posse should mosey out of here. Get the old fart to a hospital before he bleeds himself to death."

"Fuck you _._ "

The big guy tried to push him off while the other got down from the car to focus on him. Cloud knew the score. It was two armed men against one unarmed idiot. With odds like that, either the chemicals in his system had given him illusions of grandeur or he just didn't give a damn. It wouldn't be the first time Cloud had his back against a wall. He'd gotten into a countless number of fights like this before with little regard for the consequences. Not that he minded it too much. He liked the challenge of overcoming great odds in order to prove his worth. It made Cloud feel alive.

Granted, the country boy lacked the physical strength required to pulverize his opponents. But Cloud did possess speed and agility. His mother had taught him the value of maximizing his personal assets and choosing his targets wisely. Cloud chewed on the insides of a cheek as he debated on his next move though. He had managed to hold back one of the men but the other remained a problem. Cloud gritted his teeth. If he hadn't been forgetful this morning he'd have his trusty knife on him right now and make minced meat of them. Slightly frustrated by this, he made sure his nails pierced the delicate skin of the man's wrist he gripped. He overheard his grunts and curse words and found satisfaction in those sounds.

"We're gonna fuck you up real good, pretty boy," the second servant up ahead promised.

Cloud didn't doubt that. Briefly, he checked back on the boy. It was about to get nasty real soon. Surprisingly, the boy did not appear worried. He made no sound nor moved from his spot. His mirror- green eyes observed Cloud as he licked his lollipop. The blood on his lips was a gruesome reminder of what had happened. Cloud suspected what this child had eaten. Still, he couldn't concern himself with that awful revelation right now. He noticed the umbrella in the boy's hand and an idea came to him.

"Mind if I borrow that for a sec?" Cloud asked and nodded at the umbrella.

In silence, the child complied with the request and offered it to him. Cloud had no choice but to release the servant in his arms to grab it. It was that, or risk getting punched in the face the moment he let go of one of his hands. Cloud kicked the servant forward, hard enough to throw him off balance. As the guy fell to the ground, he quickly took the umbrella from the boy. It would do as an improvised weapon. He had worked with less before.

"Time to bust your cherry, pretty boy," yelled the second male after his partner was released.

The attack happened so fast that there was only a second to react. Cloud dodged left as the man swiped with his knife. A line of hot pain instantly registered over his left bicep. The teen bit back the pain though and gripped the umbrella in the same manner he held a practice sword. Even in his incapacitated state, natural instincts and years of training kicked in. The armed man pushed forward for another attack. Cloud side-stepped out of the way and this time avoided the hit altogether. He brought the umbrella downward and smacked the man's arm. Something broke and the servant screamed. Cloud wasted no time with a follow-up attack. He thrust the umbrella directly at his throat. The force of his hit was powerful enough to break the apple there. Gasping, the male dropped to his knees and clutched at his neck with both hands. His knife dropped and skidded across the rain-soaked sidewalk.

One down, Cloud thought. It was a victory short-lived. He noticed the first man getting to his feet. He was considerably bigger than his partner-in-crime. Cloud promptly kicked at his face to push him back down. He didn't want this creep getting up again. The servant fumbled and lost his grip on the knife. He shielded his face when Cloud kicked at him again and again and again. Bones cracked. Blood splattered across the pavement. The teenager did not stop. He aimed for the man's stomach, his chest, his face, and anything else that annoyed him. Cloud's attacks became fiercer when he caught the sight of a busted nose and split cheek. He wanted to break this man; to tear him apart. This determination blinded Cloud. His desperate victim managed to grab the offending foot with both hands. Yelling like a dying animal, the man held onto it until he got to his knees. Then he used all of his strength to fling Cloud backward against the car. The teenager smashed the passenger's window. Glass shattered everywhere.

Sharp tingles of pain were felt across Cloud's back. While his thick coat managed to cushion most of the damage, he knew a few pieces had embedded themselves in his skin. The teen cursed while he stumbled out of the car's window and dropped forward on his knees. A second later, the big guy appeared directly in front of him. He delivered a powerful punch across Cloud's mouth. His lower lip instantly burst in a fat pool of hot blood. Another punch came soon afterward. Cloud shifted his head to one side to lessen the blow of it. His cheekbone instantly stung at the point of impact. A third punch landed on his temple. Briefly, Cloud's vision was reduced to specks of lights and colors. His eyes rolled back from a powerful dizzy spell; it was a result of chemicals and heavy hits. A terrible ringing started in his ears. Caught between the man and the car, Cloud had no escape.

"See? We told you we were gonna fuck you up," the bloody man reminded him with a twisted grin on his face. A few of his front teeth were missing while the crooked nose bled all over his chin and chest.

Cloud hurt everywhere but the poor sight of the man was actually hilarious. He probably didn't look any better himself. Luckily, he was too high and numb to care for his own condition at the moment. Cloud chuckled. Even as he choked on his blood and ached from the fresh opened wounds, he continued to laugh. His laughter must've pissed the man. Seconds later, Cloud received a swift kick to the stomach.

"You think you're tough?" the servant yelled and kicked him again, "I'll fucking _split_ you in half." He turned and glared at the child on the car. "And you're next! Don't think I've forgotten about you."

Silent as always, the silver-haired child merely sucked on his lollipop. He ignored the threat and kept his exotic green eyes on Cloud. They never left him.

The child, Cloud slowly recalled. The teenager sat up from his spot and rubbed his bruised belly with a palm. He still needed to protect the boy. It was why he came. Briefly, an unwanted memory surfaced in Cloud's thoughts. He remembered the last time he tried to protect someone. It didn't pan out so well.

Already, Cloud saw a mental image of Tifa. Her crimson-brown eyes stared at him while she fell; a thick cloudy abyss below her. He could see her fall second-by-second. Her long gorgeous hair expanded outward. Her hands reached for a place she could no longer grip. As Tifa fell, she screamed his name. Her scream echoed to him, even when she disappeared from sight. It haunted him every night.

Cloud's hand gripped the umbrella's handle. Ignoring the pain on his stomach, he rose to his feet and confronted the large man. His voice was calm and quiet when he said, "Hey. We're not finished yet."

The big guy frowned. He looked back at him, admittedly surprised. Cloud used this brief moment of shock to his advantage. He thrust his improvised weapon forward and popped one of the man's balls with it. Cloud tackled him to the ground soon afterward. They landed together with him on top. The teen ditched the umbrella and resorted to his bare fists. Determined to finish what he had started, Cloud hit the male servant with all the fury inside him. Each time a punch connected, a wet-like _thud_ echoed. It didn't matter if his own knuckles bled or if the man was losing consciousness, Cloud kept punching him. Again. And again. And again. It was only until he heard the muffled sound of a familiar moan and gurgle that he finally stopped. The teenager looked up.

Greybeard was still alive. He had lost a lot of blood but his head was turned. His eyes stayed fixated on Cloud. They didn't blink. Even as he bled from the mouth, the old man weakly whimpered. He was now afraid of the bloodthirsty teenager. Of the monster.

The rain finally stopped. An uncomfortable silence settled over the city. Breathing hard, Cloud returned his attention to the broken servant he currently straddled. The man was a real mess. Both of his eyes were blood-shot and swollen. Air barely escaped his quivering lips. He reminded Cloud of all the boys he'd beaten up back home. In the end, they all looked the same: pulpy. Not far away was the second servant. He still struggled to breathe. His larynx had turned into a harsh purple-black color now.

Something inside Cloud broke. His hands shaking, he didn't know what it was but his eyes burned. He slowly looked up at the angelic creature above him. Cloud didn't know why he did. Perhaps he wanted to find forgiveness for tonight's sins. Perhaps he thought the child could give it to him.

Light from the street post showered over the child. It caused his thick lashes to cast long shadows over his green eyes. There was warmth in them. As the child studied the carnage around him and saw the red on Cloud's hands, his beautiful bloody lips curved into a smile. A look of adoration formed on the angel's delicate features. Cloud could only stare back, transfixed. The angel neither judged nor condemned him. It was as if everything had been preordained and he had his blessing. He had passed a great test. Yet, despite his triumph, Cloud felt broken inside.

More aware of himself now, he glared at his sticky fingers. Everything had happened so fast; his actions on auto-pilot mode. He hadn't noticed how bad he hurt these people until this very moment. Cloud's eyes burned even more and a loose tear escaped his right eye.

His mother always warned him about his uncontrollable bouts of aggression. They got the best of him, she used to say. There definitely was a lot of deep-rooted anger Cloud reserved for the world and himself. It was why Mrs. Strife tried to channel it elsewhere through the hunts and sword training. Nevertheless, she still had faith in her boy. She had told him many times he would find his way; his light. He would become something greater than the world imagined him to be. He was not a monster. Cloud briefly closed his eyes.

He really wanted to believe that.

Cloud carefully dismounted the man he straddled. The servant was alive and semi-awake. Both his arms and legs could still move. The teen sighed and stepped away from him, giving him room. Cloud's own body suffered from various injuries. They ranged from mild to severe. He'd need stitches. Cloud felt dizzy and was ready to pass out. But he forced himself to stay awake, at least long enough to settle matters once and for all. He noticed something shining on the ground nearby and approached it.

Cloud grabbed the knife there and wandered over to Greybeard's body. Standing over him, he dangled the blade between two fingers while the elderly man looked up. Greybeard froze in place. The tip of the blade hung directly above his left eye only a few feet away. He was afraid Cloud would drop it.

"Keep your sights away from the kiddies," Cloud told him, "or I'll stab those eyes out myself, gramps."

Trickles of piss collected between the old man's legs. Cloud said nothing else. He turned and tossed the knife over the construction site's metal fence. Then he carefully took one of Greybeard's arms and dragged him to the back seat of his car. The other two men gradually made their way to the vehicle as well. It was clear to them the fight was done. They were all in need of medical attention. Cloud closed the door after he secured Greybeard inside. He soon directed his attentions at the source of everything.

"You all right?" Cloud asked the silver-haired child on the car's roof.

Leaning slightly to one side, the schoolboy looked down at him. His pink lips wrapped around the hard candy again and a finger trailed along the stem of the lollipop. Cloud halfway expected the child to say something. He hadn't said a word throughout the whole ordeal, only watched. The boy maintained his silence as he hopped down from the roof. His movements were as brief and effortless as a cat's. Returning to the bus stop, the child sat on the bench and cordially crossed his legs.

Cloud nearly rolled his eyes. A simple 'thank you' would have been nice. He spat out a wad of blood from his busted lip. Before he followed him, he retrieved the boy's umbrella from the ground. Its handle was bent due to his administrations. There were also a few drops of blood on the black laced fabric.

"Sorry about your, um, umbrella," Cloud apologized and offered the broken item back to its owner. The boy ignored it. Cloud exhaled loudly in annoyance and took a seat beside him. Later, he demanded, "What are you doing out here by yourself at this hour? A kid your age should be at home. There are a bunch of weirdoes in the city."

As if to prove his point, Cloud looked back at three prime examples. The trio of men finally made it inside the car, ready to leave. The driver started it up and pulled away. They disappeared at a corner.

Cloud gripped his seat with both hands. An unsteadied feeling came to him, especially now that the adrenaline in his blood had washed away. Cloud struggled to keep upright. In a slightly slurred voice, he asked, "Do you need a ride home? My friend is about to pick me up. We can take you home."

The boy did not respond as usual. Sucking on his green lollipop, he stared at some undefined space down the road. Cloud wondered if the boy was mute. Or maybe he viewed him as a weirdo as well. It would explain why he refused to talk. Pretty soon Jessie would arrive though. Cloud hoped this child had enough sense to join them. It was too dangerous to stay out here alone.

"What's your name?" Cloud asked while flexing his damaged fingers.

At this, the child turned. Green eyes met blue. Cloud became rigid from the abrupt moment of familiarity. He could've sworn he had this encounter before.

Beside him, the child tasted his lollipop like he always did. His pink tongue lashed out and licked at the center of the sweet treat in small, slow circles. By now the thickness of the hard candy had turned thin and transparent from his constant licking. The child traced its round outer edges with his tongue, drawing out a long string of saliva. Cloud's throat felt dry all of sudden. He found himself needing to look away. The child's intense stare locked him into place though. He maintained eye contact with Cloud as he swallowed the entire lollipop in one gulp. Then he latched onto the hardy candy with his teeth. With a quick jerk, the boy pulled it straight off from the plastic stick.

It was the crackling sound of a motorcycle's engine that finally broke Cloud out of his trance. He licked his lips. Then he turned to the direction of the road. A lone bike rider approached. The sound of his metal beast roared loudly while his headlights grew brighter. He drew closer to the bus stop. The child surprisingly glanced at the rider as well. His teeth audibly crushed the hard candy inside his mouth.

Wearing a black helmet over his face, Cloud instantly recognized his clothes. Fatigue-colored jacket with cargo pants. Belts and chains. Thick boots. It was the young, raven-haired Host from the club. Pulling to a stop in front of their bench, he shut off the engine and pushed down the brake. A part of Cloud wondered if his other associates were with him. He even clung to the hope that Black was nearby. Unfortunately, Cloud saw only this young male.

Sitting on his bike, the Host removed his helmet and set it on his lap. Light from the street-post reflected back a youthful but very tired face. Bright blue eyes glowed as they did before while his spiked hair swayed against the cool winds. At this close range Cloud had a better look at his facial scar: it had been a clean cut. The brunette-haired teen surveyed the area for a moment. He noticed the blood splatters across the sidewalk and Cloud's condition. He made a face. His blue eyes looked at their direction.

"You done screwing around?" he suddenly asked.

The Host sounded both annoyed and amused. Slightly confused by his words, Cloud didn't know how to answer his question. He stayed quiet and sucked on his bottom lip to make it stop bleeding. The Host eventually looked directly at him. A frown appeared on his face. The Host shook his head with a sigh.

"Leave him alone already…" he murmured.

"Excuse me?" Cloud bit back. He scoffed and quickly defended himself. "I haven't done anything."

The other teen gave him a toothy grin. He laughed. "I wasn't talking to you, sunshine."

Cloud cocked a brow. He hadn't been talking to him all this time? Then it dawned on him. He turned to the silver-haired boy.

Flicking his lollipop stick to a nearby dispenser, the child now rose off the bench and approached the bike. The Host scooted forward in his seat to offer him space. They knew each other, Cloud realized and wondered _how_. The child didn't seem related to the raven-haired teen. He was also too young to be a Host. About the only thread they shared was the peculiar glow in their eyes.

"It took me a while to find you," the Host said and kept his eyes on the child. "Man, Angeal is gonna be _sooo_ pissed when he finds out where you ran off to and what you've been doing all this time. You'll never hear the end of his speech. Honor. Dreams. The works."

The child ignored the wild teen's gentle ramblings. He was a few steps away from the bike when he abruptly stopped and looked down. There was something on the ground. Cloud followed the schoolboy's gaze and realized it was his Chocobo Chow work shirt. He'd nearly forgotten about it.

Having dropped it before the fight, it was thoroughly soaked from the rain. The child picked it up with both hands and closely inspected it. He tilted his head to one side and studied the goofy Chocobo Chow patch with the name _Strife_ stenciled on it. A snicker escaped the child's lips. Cloud nearly rolled his eyes when he soon heard a giggle. Obviously, the child found his name or occupation or both very funny.

"Okay, give it here," Cloud ordered. He stood next to the boy to retrieve his shirt.

Either the child didn't hear his request or didn't care to oblige since he made no move to give it back to him. His small fingers carefully touched the fine textures of the sewn patch. He traced each letter of his last name with a pinky. Trying his patience, Cloud opened his mouth, prepared to demand for his work shirt again. His eyes widened in shock when the terrible child suddenly ripped the patch right off.

"H-hey!" Cloud started. "What the hell? Give that back, you little brat!"

The silver-haired boy swiftly shoved the Chocobo Chow patch inside his jacket's breast pocket: it was _his_ now. When the little bugger finally returned the shirt back he made no apologies. Irritated, Cloud snatched back his blouse. He had no idea why the child did that. Perhaps he wanted a memento for tonight's affairs. Or he liked Chocobo Chow. Or maybe it was payback for what he'd done to his umbrella. Whatever the reason was, Cloud had one less work shirt to use. Damn.

At the curb, the black-haired Host helped the boy mount his motorcycle. He turned to Cloud and grinned. "Sorry, sunshine. Finders keepers, losers weepers."

Not amused, Cloud muttered a curse word. The sour moment came to pass as he observed the two get ready to leave. The child wrapped his arms around his companion's waist. Their unique eyes shimmered. Cloud was tempted to ask why they glowed like that but the bike rider quickly put on his helmet and snapped the dark visor shut. The Host gave him one last look. It was a long one.

"Don't take this the wrong way, okay?" his soft voice carried, "But… I _really_ hope we don't meet again."

A bit put off by that rather offending remark, Cloud said nothing back. He noticed the Host grow rigid when the child behind him rested his head on his spine. Tiny hands gripped his waist even tighter. The bike's engine started up shortly after. Within seconds, the two strange boys rode off.

Cloud observed their silhouettes disappear within the dark landscape of the city. The bike's roar echoed loudly in the distance. He thought about Black in that single moment and instantly regretted not asking about him when he had the chance. Somehow, though, Cloud felt his presence. The child had something to do with it. Any time he looked into those bright green eyes, thoughts of Black were not far away. Cloud wondered if the two knew each other.

The blond-haired teenager stood in the middle of the sidewalk as he contemplated over their connection. Another dizzy spell hit him though. Feeling lightheaded, Cloud couldn't stay on his feet for long. He had exhausted all of his strength and willpower. Fatigue, chemicals, alcohol, and the aftermath of the fight all caught up with him now. Making his way back to the bus bench, the teenager decided to sit down and wait for Jessie there. He didn't get far. Both legs collapsed from under him and a numbing sensation took over the back of his head. This time Cloud couldn't get up. The body felt too heavy. His blue eyes rolled back. The darkness instantly welcomed him. On the cold sidewalk, Cloud blacked out.


	10. Hangover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Cloud comes to. Some interesting tidbits of information along with a nice cameo from a certain potty-mouthed pilot._

**CHAPTER 9: Hangover**

Somewhere in a short distance, an electronic beat played while a man spoke. He rambled on about conspiracy theories, colossal-sized creatures, starry-eyed men, zombies, and aliens from outer space. It had all the synopsis of a low-budget horror film. Still, the man sounded serious. In his low-pitched even tone, he spoke his words slowly and with great care. It was the _truth_ he claimed to speak; it was the truth that had been buried under years of deceit and corruption. It now demanded exposure.

"… _According to my sources, a highly esteemed scientist from Shinra's Science Department had led the excavation team and returned with a specimen that fell from the sky thousands of years ago. Official records declare this scientist had passed away due to 'heart failure'."_

A snicker was soon heard, followed by a lively amused voice.

" _Fu, fu! I suppose several gunshots to the chest by undercover operatives could be considered a 'heart failure'. But I digress, faithful listeners. I have no doubt his death was the result of a massive cover-up led by this ruthless corporation. Despite President Shinra's insistence that no such creature had ever been recovered, my sources indicate otherwise. In fact, this specimen has been at the center of many controversial projects from past to present. In time, we will dig out the truth. There are just some secrets that cannot stay buried for long._

 _"Until that day comes, I am urging you, my brothers and sisters, to flood the streets and shake the foundation of Shinra Electric Power Company with your voices. And pray for our Planet. Blessed be the precious vessel whose blood runs dry on account of the sins of mortal men. This is AVALANCHE, the faithful and many, signing off._ "

A cheesy soundtrack composed of metal pipes and strings played loudly and out-of-pitch. As this music played, one weary ice-blue eye halfway opened.

Cloud produced a low, throaty moan. Lying on his stomach, a bent arm sprawled over his head at a ridiculous angle while his left cheek had sunken deep against a soft pillow. He rested on a ragged couch that squeaked loudly when he tried to move.

The first thing that hit Cloud as he became semi-aware was a pounding headache followed by a strong thirst. He took a dry swallow and shifted to his backside. Bones cracked and tiny stings of pain flared along the path of his spine. He hissed.

" _H-hey, careful, Cloud…_ "

Through half-slit eyes, Cloud slowly tilted his head to the direction of the female's voice. It came from around the corner of the couch. He rolled to his side and found a familiar face. With an easy smile, Jessie stood next to Cloud with arms wrapped around her waist.

Jessie's thick brown hair was pulled back into pony tail as usual, but a red bandanna now kept the bangs secured. She wore heavy-duty boots with faded leathery skin and a dark navy overall uniform. It was zipped to her neck while the sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. A utility belt hung loosely around her slender waist. Each time she moved her tools jingled. Cloud wrinkled his nose. He could smell the scent of oil on her. There were smudges of black grease over her face and uniform.

"H-how do you f-feel?" Jessie asked.

Cloud took a deep swallow. His throat felt as dry as sandpaper. "I feel like crap."

"I bet." Jessie softly chuckled. "Y-you, uh, drank a lot last night."

"Remind me never to do that again…" Cloud massaged his temples.

"Definitely noted."

Cloud started to relax after coming to his full senses. Soon observing his current surroundings, he realized this wasn't his place. There were rolls of blueprints, metal tools, and mechanical objects piled on wooden tables and shelves everywhere. A computer station occupied a corner. It was the source of the cheesy music that continued to play in the background.

"Where am I…?" Cloud slowly asked.

"M-my place," Jessie answered back and fidgeted nonstop with her utility belt. "Sorry, but you never told me where you lived. You passed out so I had to take you here."

The walls of the living space were painted a soft pink color and littered with posters of adorable Chocobos. One poster displayed a giant Chocobo trying to fly. The words, 'Never Give Up, Silly Bird,' appeared under it. Cloud inwardly scoffed at the cheesiness of it. Then he checked the small group of broken television screens and radios. They were likely Jessie's personal pet projects. Cloud's brow rose when there was a large engine part among the stash. He moved a bit from the couch to get a better look of it until something squeaked in a high-pitch sound. Cloud looked down. A few Moogle plushies had apparently accompanied him on the couch. One squeaked again when he accidentally shifted his arm.

"S-Sorry about that, Cloud. I forgot those were there." Jessie nervously chuckled and quickly gathered the plushies. She dumped them into a nearby make-shift closet. To herself, she whispered, " _I'm such a stupid corndog. Stupid, stupid, stupid…_ "

Cloud overheard her and tried not to laugh at her choice of words. His eyes later took in the rest of the apartment. It was a strange place, he thought. It had all the struggle of two personalities at odds with each other: one cute and one serious. Glimpses of femininity clashed with the rust of metal parts.

"N-need some water?" Jessie's voice reached him again; small and unsure.

Cloud nodded. The pipes in Jessie's kitchen rattled when she turned on a nearby faucet with a glass in hand. Carefully, Cloud sat up on the couch and waited for his drink.

His body ached everywhere. Face. Arms. Back. When he pressed a finger against his lower lip the tender skin immediately stung. It had been treated with an ointment. Cloud could taste the honey-dew flavor of applied medicine while he felt a thick layer of crust on his bottom lip. Stings of pain shot up his spine again when he shifted his weight on the couch. He discovered packed bandages over his back wounds. His bicep was currently wrapped by a cloth too. Lifting the cotton sheet, Cloud decided to assess the rest of his body's condition. He quickly frowned. Looking down, Cloud realized he'd been stripped to his boxers. He shot Jessie a look.

"I-I'm sorry," Jessie started when she came back with his glass of water. Her face turned to a shade of red. It almost matched the bandanna she wore. After a long awkward silence, she made a weird motion with her free hand and explained, "Y-you were wet from the rain and bleeding everywhere. I-I had to remove your clothes and f-fix you up."

The hand that still held the glass of water trembled. Drops of water spilled onto the wooden chipped floor. Sitting up with his entire chest exposed and one knee raised, Cloud stared at Jessie in silence. He took no offense and mentally accepted her reasons. However, the mischievous boy in him enjoyed watching the poor girl squirm for a moment longer. Jessie looked ready to explode. It was hilarious. Cloud nodded back to her though. He formed a small smile at the corner on his lips to reassure her everything was fine.

It wasn't right to be a prick to her like that. Cloud already knew she had a serious crush on him. He also knew from personal experience what it felt like when a crush shitted all over those sensitive feelings or, worse, didn't notice them.

Tifa…

Jessie visibly swallowed hard and finally handed him his glass of water with a shaky hand. Afterward, she idly touched a tool in her utility belt. It didn't take long for Cloud to finish his glass. His mouth was so dry the water was gone in a matter of seconds. Jessie took that as her cue to refill it. She retrieved the glass and poured more water.

"Wh-what happened to you, by the way?" Jessie inquired from the sink area. "By the time I arrived, you were busted up and lying on the sidewalk. Did you get into a fight?"

She handed him his next glass of water. Cloud gulped down most of it in one shot. Then he contemplated over her question. Cloud sat there, stumped. He didn't remember.

Only fragments came to him here and there. There was Wedge talking about big tits. There was the black shirt Jessie gave him. A giant birthday cake. A dance with Ele'. Cloud couldn't recall the details or order of events. What troubled him most, though, was how he ended up in his current poor condition. Just like Jessie, he naturally concluded he'd gotten into a bad ruffle. The circumstances behind it remained a mystery. Amongst his drug-and-alcohol influenced memories, however, came a brief image of a figure in black. It towered over him. Frowning, Cloud wondered if this shrouded figure had something to do with what had happened last night.

"I don't remember…" Cloud finally admitted and looked at Jessie. "Hey, did I… meet anyone in black?"

"Huh?"

"Was a person in black sitting at our table last night?" Cloud specified his question.

Jessie thought a moment. Then she shook her head. "It was just the five of us at the booth. You. Me. Wedge. Biggs. And Ele'. No one else was there with us. At least, that's what I remember. I admit, I was kinda drunk too so…" Jessie's voice trailed off. Later, her eyes softened. "Hey, is everything okay?"

Cloud didn't immediately answer back. The figure in black still occupied his mind. Black veil. Hidden eyes. After a long agonizing moment, Cloud finally gave up. He sighed. "Never mind. I'm good."

Jessie looked at him.

"What time is it?" Cloud decided to change the subject. "It feels late."

"It's two in the afternoon. I'm here on my lunch break. I-I came back here to check on you." When she noticed the surprised look on Cloud's face, she explained, "S-sorry I didn't wake you earlier. You were sleeping so peacefully."

Cloud shrugged his shoulders. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. I'm off work today and my class is hours from now anyway, so it doesn't matter." He glanced at the bandages scattered across his body. "Um, thanks, by the way. Thanks for letting me crash at your place and tending to my cuts. I owe you. Sorry you have to see me like… _this_."

"Don't apologize. I'm just glad you're okay. It's just kinda crazy you blacked out." Jessie paused. Her cheeks flared with color again when she notified, "Oh, um… y-your _clothes_ are o-over there."

She pointed at a lining that was strung across her large kitchen window. Unlike his place, her window offered a good view of the Slums. If such a thing could exist. From where he sat, Cloud could see an old children's playground in the distance. When he checked the lining he found all of his absent clothes. They had been hand washed and hung to dry, including his Chocobo Chow shirt. Cloud noticed his name badge missing but couldn't remember how that happened.

Setting his glass on a nearby coffee table, Cloud found his PHS there. He wondered if he had recorded any events from last night. Quickly browsing through it, Cloud found only text messages between him and Kyle. A brow rose at the mention of a _black-veiled man_. But there was no mention of an encounter with him. Perhaps he only thought about a black-veiled man because Kyle had talked about him. Yeah. That had to be it. The black figure must've been a figment of his imagination based on Kyle's words, Cloud concluded, and set his PHS back on the table. He removed the blanket and got to his feet.

"Last night must've been an _eventful_ night for you," Cloud commented, a bit amused by his lack of clothes. He readjusted the waistband of his slim-fitting blue boxers.

Across him, Jessie's eyes widened at the sight of the almost-naked man. She instantly turned around to face a wall. Her cheeks blossomed red again. "I-I kept my e-eyes closed most of the t-time. I swear."

" _Most_ of the time?" Cloud repeated with a low-sounding snicker.

There was a long stretch of silence from Jessie. She finally took a deep swallow. In a serious voice, she asked, "Th-that long scar across your stomach… What happened there?"

"An accident when I was a kid…" Cloud briefly said, refusing to go into the details. His bare feet padded across the room and reached the lining at the kitchen area. He grabbed his pants. As he slipped them on, he confessed, "You know, I really don't like being in debt to anyone, Jessie."

"D-debt?" Still staring at a wall, the car mechanic frowned at first. It took her a second to understand what he meant. Then Jessie fervently shook her head. "No, no. It's not a debt, Cloud. Y-you don't owe me for a-anything. I was happy to help."

"But. You did a lot for me…" Cloud zipped up his pants and turned to look at her. Cocking his head to the side, he further elaborated, "What I meant to say was… if you wanna watch a movie or go out and eat somewhere, I can do that. With you. You know? A, uh, _get-together_?"

A _date_ , Cloud meant to say but stopped himself before going any further. Crap. He sounded terrible. Flirty talk wasn't his forte. He still lacked the ability to casually ask someone out without feeling like a complete dork. Still, he had to give it a shot for Jessie. No matter what the woman said, Cloud felt obligated to her. Since he already knew what she wanted, it was within his reach to give it to her. Cloud quickly licked his chapped lips. He suddenly felt unsure and wondered if it was a mistake to ask her out.

"Y-yeah," Jessie quickly piped up. A subtle but high-pitched melody slipped into her voice now. She grinned. " _Yeah_ , Cloud. I-I would like that very much."

Cloud sealed the deal with a simple nod back. Then he grabbed the black t-shirt from the lining and pulled it over his shoulders. He grunted when the wound on his arm briefly flared with heat. Cloud took a deep breath. "I'm kinda hungry right now. We could go out for lunch?"

Now that he was semi-dressed, Jessie felt comfortable enough to step away from the wall and face him. "T-tempting. I'd love to, Cloud. But. Um…"

"Oh. Crap. That's right," Cloud suddenly realized, "your job."

Jessie responded with a light-hearted chuckle.

"Did you at least eat?" Cloud felt a pang of guilt develop in the pit of his stomach. He hoped she didn't sacrifice her lunch time for him.

"I ate something while you were resting, so I'm good. Speaking of which… I-I should probably get going." Jessie pulled at her ponytail with both hands to tighten it. Then she went to her computer station and turned off the annoying music that hadn't stopped playing. "Sorry. I hope this webcast didn't annoy you. It can be _out there_ , but I do like tuning in. Some of the stuff is interesting."

On the monitor's screen, Cloud saw an image of a young man with slick brown hair and thin-framed glasses. It was the voice he heard as he woke up.

Fuhito, the webmaster of AVALANCHE, was in his twenties. This was the same environmental hippie Biggs was into. A lot of people like Biggs and Jessie were taken by AVALANCHE's movement.

A _revolution_ , everyone called it. Every day Fuhito broadcasted news related to Shinra in an attempt to expose their secrets to the public. Twice, his channel had been taken down, supposedly by the Turks. But Fuhito was a relentless man and had retaliated with a full DNS attack against Shinra's commercial-related servers. Or so Biggs claimed. Cloud didn't really believe the hype. Aside from his first name, he was a relatively unknown person. For all anyone knew, Fuhito was a college kid dropout who smoked grass all day and lived at the basement of his parents' home while trolling Shinra's public channels.

"Yea, I heard him talking about UFOs or something," Cloud mentioned, not really interested in the topic. "Hey. Where's your workshop, Jessie?"

"At Wall Market. Why?"

"Maybe I can walk you there?"

"Oh, like a bodyguard?" Jessie beamed.

"I don't know about _that_." Cloud snorted out loud. "But it wouldn't hurt to make sure you get there in one piece, especially when they discovered that corpse yesterday at the museum."

"Yeah, that was kinda spooky," Jessie agreed, "Fuhito mentioned it earlier in his webcast. He claims a Tsviet was dispatched at the scene. A monster apparently appeared shortly after the corpse was found."

Cloud cocked a brow, unsure whether to believe this story or not. Fuhito was often full of shit. However, Biggs did mention hearing gunshots and seeing Turks at the checkpoints during his delivery run. There was also a rumor of a Tsviet appearance. This nerved but excited Cloud.

Monster sightings were still an issue in the city. Midgar's Wasteland continuously attracted them. President Shinra insisted they were the results of Wutai rebel attacks. They claimed the rebels planted them in the city. It would explain how the creatures reached topside. Still, it was strange one appeared at the same scene of a corpse. Cloud wondered if the two cases were connected.

Cloud set his thoughts aside and grabbed his PHS on the counter. He decided now was the perfect time to leave. "Let's go. I don't want you to be late. I can grab a bite to eat too."

"Sounds like a plan." Jessie nodded and walked around her apartment to ensure everything was secured and turned off. The two left her nest soon afterward.

* * *

Wall Market: a steam-fueled, rusted cesspool that exploited dreams and inward desires. Man could become king. For the right price. The environment was a kaleidoscope of improvised structures made of recycled materials. Metals. Tin. Plastic. Still, the underground 'town' burst with raw energy and ambitions. Perhaps one of the few areas in the Slums with actual running power, venues in Wall Market ran on either battery-juiced generators or coal. Lanterns and bulbs alike kept the area brightly lit. All vendors depended on the generators and coal supplied by Don Corneo who, in turn, took a large percentage. Heavily guarded and gated, the Don's residence occupied the north section.

For many, Wall Market was as close to paradise as anyone could get here. Customers had to keep their wits about them when navigating through its mean streets though. Thugs, thieves, prostitutes, and dealers readily stalked the grounds for potential targets. It was an endless cycle of misery and self-loathe. Many of the working women who spread their legs for Gil were actually desperate mothers or daughters that needed to feed their families. And most of the thugs that plagued the streets originated from broken, disarray homes. Wall Market belonged to the lost and forgotten bastards of Midgar City.

As Cloud traveled alongside Jessie, the bottom of his shoes crushed glass. He checked the ground. There was an assortment of trash, from food to broken wares. Bones of rats and pets rested among the pile. Flies and maggots gathered on the corpses. Cloud exhaled slowly. It was hard enough to stomach a few ghastly sights, but Wall Market's air always felt heavy. Thick antique pipes from various rooftops continuously spat out puffs of smoke. The smog created from generators and fires had settled thickly in the air due to the Plate above. It had nowhere else to go. Cloud was lucky he didn't have asthma.

Watching out for dog shit, the blond-haired teen followed Jessie down a busy section of Wall Market. He bumped into a few people on account of the traffic. It was a popular area. There was a boutique, an Inn for guests, and few other item shops. Young faces stood outside these stores to attract customers while performers played on beat-up improvised instruments for Gil. A familiar scent of Wutai noodles suddenly caught Cloud's attention. It came from the local diner he visited during his trips to Wall Market. It wasn't too far from the Pharmacy he also frequented for his motion sickness pills. Cloud decided to return to the diner for a bite to eat after he dropped Jessie off.

"We're halfway there," Jessie notified. "Thanks for coming with me. This place can be rowdy."

"Yea, it's always an _adventure_ coming here," Cloud responded in a snarky manner.

Walking past a bar now, two drunk idiots abruptly crashed through a window and spilled onto the streets. Cloud and Jessie jumped back in reaction. The intoxicated men sloppily tossed fists at each other, reeking of alcohol. When one of them kneeled over and vomited during the scuffle, the sad display reminded Cloud of his own fight.

Granted, most of last night remained a blur. The liquor and drugs had seen to that. Nonetheless, Cloud suspected the horrible mischief he had committed based on his wounds and muddled thoughts. Perhaps it was best his fragmented memories stay hidden away.

_…You smell of unrelenting lust, boy._

A Shinra officer soon arrived at the scene and broke up the fight. He waved his baton and issued the drunks a warning. Cloud wasn't surprised to spot an IM here. It was common to see them among the Slums population. Either they kept the peace and broke up riots… or simply had a good time.

Liquor, sex, and all other the vices were readily available to everyone in Wall Market, no matter rank or status. Shinra employees were no exception. They visited the regular hot spots like everyone else did. However, the high officials were often spotted at the infamous Honey Bee Inn.

Whatever happened at Honey Bee Inn, stayed in Honey Bee Inn. Or so Cloud recalled as he observed the popular hotspot from his current position. A long line of men already stood in front of a tall gate guarded by two bulky males. The special Inn was only two stories high but hosted an impressive group of beautiful women. They donned adorable, yellow-and-black striped outfits that resembled worker bees.

According to Wedge and Biggs, there were four notable rooms worth a visit: the Group Room, the Lover's Room, and the Queen's Room. The last room had no name and was supposedly reserved for the clinically insane. Access into Honey Bee Inn required a membership card that cost good Gil. On occasion, the owner of the establishment offered special one-day passes. Cloud's cheeks turned to a brighter shade of pink. In his coat's pocket was a membership card. He faintly remembered Wedge giving it to him as a birthday present. If he ever had the balls to redeem it, it would be his first time going through those special doors.

"Hey, isn't that the place your Boss likes to hang out?" Jessie suddenly asked.

Cloud looked away from Honey Bee Inn and turned to the direction Jessie currently faced. His skin lost color and he almost had a heart attack on the spot.

"Biggs told me about Mr. Mukki," Jessie revealed as they stared at a gym, "He likes to work out a lot."

Cloud was too appalled to issue a confirmation. _That gym_ …

It was indeed the very gym Mr. Mukki religiously visited. Sheltered within a large tent, a large neon sign shined brightly over its entrance. Cloud had never gone inside the gym. He imagined the air reeked of feet and ass drip. No doubt the floor was glossed with sweat and spit. Cloud had heard a rumor the gym was reserved for a _special kind of man_. What that meant, Cloud did not know. Nor did he _want_ to know. A sense of anxiety overtook the blond-haired teenager as they walked past the notorious establishment. He halfway expected Mr. Mukki to suddenly pop out from the gym's entrance like a Boogeyman and attack him with a bear hug.

"Hey, there's my shop," Jessie announced and pointed straight ahead.

 _Praise Gaia_ , Cloud thought. He hurried after her and didn't look back.

Together, they arrived at a two-storied, make-shift establishment composed of metal panels and pipes. A blue neon-lit sign, _Hot Rod's Shop_ , flickered on and off again.

Behind the workplace was a junkyard cluttered with smashed cars and bikes alike. They stacked on top of each other several feet high. It was a miracle these _pillars_ of metal didn't collapse. At an opened garage space, a few beat-up cars had been mechanically lifted for inspection while others were in the process of being gutted for parts. A flight of steps at the east end led up to the second floor. Neighbors with the Machine Gun Store, the popping sounds of bullets could be heard in conjunction with the non-stop rattle of a mechanical tool. Jessie headed for the entrance of Hot Rod's Shop. Wanting to properly send her off, Cloud followed suit.

A single bell chimed on their arrival. Hip-hop melodies played loudly from an antique jukebox by the entrance. The air smelled of rubber, oil, and cigarette smoke. A large, squeaky ceiling fan spun above them. To Cloud, Hot Rod's Shop was impressive in size. It looked the part of a legitimate mechanics shop. The wall next to him consisted of a series of corded boards that displayed cables, wrenches, coiled wires, and other important tools. Four metaled shelves with wheels were placed in a line, each containing cans and bottles. A six-foot tall and five-feet-wide red cabinet sat at a corner. As the two arrivals stepped further into the workshop, they passed by a collection of tires of various sizes.

Jessie waved to a twenty-something unshaven male inside a metal cage that reached up to the ceiling. The man gave Jessie a half-mocked salute when he saw her, then returned his attention to the cigar-smoking customer in front of him.

Looking intimidating, the caged man had unkempt auburn hair and a collection of tattoos stenciled on his well-toned, ripped arms. He wore gray overalls like Jessie but kept the topped pulled down and revealed a black, sleeveless shirt. Several necklaces decorated his neck while a cigarette was tucked above one ear. A wooden counter ran along the same length of his cage. From his enclosed space, he hung in suspension by a swing. Its chains led up to an opening in the ceiling. A visible lever was next to him, the triggering device required to ascend to the second floor.

Cloud and Jessie left the man in the cage alone and made their way to a small break room nearby. Made of chain-linked walls, the break room provided a mini-fridge and a water dispenser. A cheap plastic square table was propped to a side, littered with cigarette butts, consumed soda cans, and magazines. A newspaper sat at the top of the stack. It showcased the corpse sighting at the museum.

Clocking in with a paper slip in the break room, Jessie turned to Cloud and revealed, "That guy out there is my boss: Alvis. But everyone in Wall Market calls him _Rod_."

" _Rod?_ " Cloud gave out a loud snort. "Something tells me he thinks pretty high of himself."

Jessie poured water into a paper cup. "Heh. Well. People call him that because he likes to hit people who give him funny business with metal pipes." She suddenly leaned close to Cloud and whispered, "Between you and me, I think my Boss is an ex-Turk…"

Cloud became quiet and didn't crack another joke at Rod's expense. Wearily, he checked the cage again.

He saw Rod still talking to the customer. Surrounding Jessie's boss were giant posters of bikini-clad women. However, there was a line of metal pipes on a rack next to Rod. Cloud wondered if they were tools or really props used to beat bad customers to a bloody pulp. He swallowed hard at that last possibility. Rod really was a scary looking guy. Then again, nearly everyone who was afraid of their boss claimed he or she must've been an ex-Turk. It was a common running joke in Midgar.

Jessie left the break room shortly after. Cloud followed. He decided to mention his departure to Jessie until he noticed a motorcycle a few feet away. It was near a work bench across him. A glint in Cloud's eyes appeared. He took several steps closer to the bike.

It must've been an old model since it lacked all the fancy additions of a typical G-bike. No GPS. No digital transmitter. No automatic break locks. Its rusted handle bars were wide spread while the busted headlights consisted of large round shapes. The paint-job had been reduced to chipped flakes of dull browns. Cloud ran a hand across its torn leather seat. Despite its terrible condition, he adored it. Since he was a kid he wanted to ride a bike. He loved the sound of its engine and the complex beauty of its mechanical body.

"You like that?" Jessie approached him from behind. She took another gulp of her water. "Rod brought that in for me to restore. There's a lot I gotta fix though, like the spark plug and cooling fan. The combustion chamber is also in pretty bad shape. You ride bikes?"

Cloud slowly removed his hand from the handle. He shook his head. "No. Unfortunately, I don't."

"Unfortunately?" Jessie repeated. "You don't have a bike license?"

"Nope. No license at all."

"Not even for a car?" The female mechanic blinked. "But you're already seventeen…"

"My motion sickness…" Cloud explained and leaned against a work bench with arms crossed. "I can't ride a car, let alone, a bike."

Jessie silently sipped her water. Afterward, she asked, "Have you talked with the doctors?"

"I've been taking motion sickness pills. That's all I can do. I also can't afford an instructor or Driver's Ed class." Cloud set his eyes to the floor. "I guess I'm doomed to keep my feet planted to the ground."

"I wouldn't give up just yet, Cloud." Jessie took a step forward. She crushed the paper cup and tossed it in a bin. Proudly, she declared, "I know how to ride a bike. I can teach you! No sweat."

Cloud stared at her.

"You won't have to pay a thing since I'll provide the bike too," the woman continued, "We'll get you your Bike License in no time. You can worry about a Car License later."

Speechless, Cloud's eyes switched back and forth between the bike and Jessie. He couldn't determine whether it was the real deal or a false hope. His pessimistic nature wouldn't allow him to accept this wonderful offer without question. Already, Cloud debated what the trade-off was. By accepting this offer he would feel even more obligated to her. He hardly knew Jessie and didn't want to plant any funny ideas in her head if he agreed to it.

"Well? What do you say, Cloud?" Jessie asked; a genuine smile on her face. "You game?"

A pause. A thought. A frown. Finally, Cloud replied in a no-nonsense manner, "Are you serious?"

At first, Jessie responded with an unblinking look on her face. Then a small snicker escaped her mouth. "Wow. Biggs was right about you: you can be a funny man sometimes."

Cloud's brows shifted evenly, not sure how to take that.

"Listen," Jessie began, "I'm very serious about teaching you. I'm offering my services. Free of charge. You just gotta tell me if you're interested or not. I won't force you into this if you don't want to."

Cloud studied Jessie's face. Her tone was gentle and her eyes never wavered from his. The woman was dead serious about teaching him how to ride a bike. And she had the means to make good on that promise. Cloud's eyes directed back to the bike next to them. His hand touched its handle again. This broken bike… it was a work-in-progress. Just like him. A faint smile formed across his lips.

Cloud turned to Jessie. "When can we start?"

She instantly grinned. "We'll figure out each other's work schedules and go from there."

Cloud bobbed his head in agreement and stood closer to the bike. This was great. Not only would he finally learn how to ride one of these metal beasts, but he'd also learn to cope with his motion sickness. The pills weren't enough. If he couldn't operate a vehicle or tolerate one without puking he'd be no good to the Public Safety Division, let alone, the Tsviets.

" _Goddamn, that's too expensive, ya freakin' asshat!_ " a voice suddenly exploded behind the two. " _Whatcha take me fo'? The Princess of Wutai?_ "

Both Cloud and Jessie shifted their attentions to the blond-haired customer with the cigar. He wore an assortment of vintage accessories on his person, including a pair of bronze metaled goggles above his head and long leather gloves. His jacket was grimed with oil and grease. The conversation between Rod and him had escalated into a screaming-swearing match of sorts. Neither man blinked or backed off.

"That engine, alone, is worth twelve," Rod notified through gritted teeth, "I got three other customers lined up, ready to throw down thirteen. Pony up or fuck off, Spaceman."

"Yea, the engine is worth twelve. But with the five-fingered discount you're always gettin' fo' yo' parts? I reckon that twelve ain't coverin' any expenses, except for the ones ya rack up at the Honey Bee Inn."

"Don't like my business? Go somewhere else, Spaceman. That is, of course, if you can find another dealer with a Class B Model 387 Engine for that damn flying tin-can you call a plane."

The other man took a deep inhale from his cigar. He blew a puff of smoke at Rod's direction. "I'll make a deal: ya give me that engine fo' four grand an' I'll run a free shipment fo' ya. Ya won't have to worry 'bout all that red-tape at the loadin' docks or the inspectors peepin' in yo' crates. Deal?"

Inside his cage, Rod scratched his stubby jawline beard.

"That'll include the fuel too, you greedy-ass dipshit," the customer continued.

Rod suddenly beamed. "Sounds like a deal, Spaceman. I'll have the engine ready in an hour."

Both men spit into their palms. Through a square gap in the cage their hands interlocked and shook. Then the blond-haired man held out his wrist's barcode. Rod scanned it with his handheld scanner.

" _Four thousand Gil has been withdrawn_ ," a computerized female notified.

"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Spaceman," Rod said with a satisfied smile on his face.

The blond-haired customer grumbled a few incoherent words. He headed straight for the exit. As the bell chimed from his departure, Jessie looked to her boss. She approached the cage with Cloud.

"Who was that?" the young woman asked.

"Cid Highwind, a top-class pilot for Shinra. He's actually slated to fly into space next year. Mr. Spaceman needs the Class B engine. Be sure to spruce it up before he comes back, girl." Sitting in his swing, Rod turned and noticed Cloud. "Who the fuck is this pretty boy? Your boyfriend?"

Cloud frowned.

"Uh, n-no. He's just a f-friend." Jessie grew red-faced. "This is Cloud."

" _Cloud?_ " Rod took one long look at him. "Hm. Figured a twink like you would have a name like _Cloud._ "

"It certainly beats being a dick named _Rod_ ," the boy retorted in kind.

Silent, Rod removed the cigarette from his ear and lit it with a mini-blowtorch he grabbed from his counter. To Jessie, he simply said, "I like this kid already."

Jessie blushed. "Um, I was showing Cloud around the shop. He lives in the Slums too and works at Chocobo Chow up at the Plate."

Cloud made a face. He wished she didn't mention his occupation, especially to this hard-ass man. A sense of pride prompted him to clarify, "It's only for a while. I plan on enlisting this spring."

"To the army?" Rod took an inhale of his cigarette. "That sounds intense. Lotta boys sign up for the meat grinder. Judging by that look in your eyes, though, you're not just shooting for _any_ grunt position. You want the Tsviets. Am I correct about this?"

"Yea. So what if I am?"

"No need to be defensive, kid. A lot of people want to join their ranks. The Tsviets got the power of mako in their blood. They're the fucking juggernauts of this world, possessing all the genetic imprints of a new God. Not many can surpass the Tsviets. Well. Except maybe for the Old Blood."

"Old blood?" Cloud repeated.

Rod blew smoke from his mouth. The music on his jukebox temporarily stopped to switch to another record. A wave of silence dominated the room, interrupted only by the _ta-ta-ta_ bullet sounds from the Machine Gun Shop next door. At the switch of a record, the music changed from hip-hop to the blues. Rod tipped the ashes off from his cigarette and gave one more serious look at Cloud.

"That's another story from another time," Rod finally said. He stared without unblinking. "You got the determination, kid. I can see that in you. But I'd be careful. The stories I hear about Shinra and their _pet projects_ … It's the type of shit that'll spook anyone."

Cloud crossed his arms. "And how would you know anything about Shinra?"

"That's another story from another time," Rod repeated and showcased all white teeth in his grin. His hand reached for a lever and the chains in his swing started to pull him up. As the head mechanic ascended to the square hole in the ceiling, his voice carried to Cloud. "Be careful what you wish for, kid. The sleeper's dream can quickly turn into a nightmare."

Rod laughed. His sound echoed loudly until he disappeared through the ceiling. The words stayed with Cloud. He started to wonder if Jessie's suspicions about her boss were right all along. Meanwhile, the female mechanic took a step closer to Cloud. She offered an apologetic look on her face.

"Ignore him," she suggested, "Rod can be an ass sometimes."

"So I've noticed," Cloud agreed. He took his eyes away from the ceiling and glanced at the door he initially came through. "I'm gonna head out now if you don't mind, Jessie. I don't want to distract you from your work."

"You're not a distraction," Jessie replied very softly. "Thanks for escorting me here, by the way."

"No problem." Cloud suddenly felt awkward. He took a few steps toward the door but paused midway. Looking back at Jessie, he muttered, "I'll, um, stay in touch. For the bike lessons. And the… _other_ thing."

"I look forward to our date, Cloud."

Jessie's face blossomed with a warmer color. The mechanic had blushed a lot throughout their time together. It was clear she was excited about their date. For Cloud, though, he didn't know how to react. A handshake? A hug? A kiss on the cheek? Cloud recalled the 'no kissing on the first date' rule and settled for an awkward smile instead. He was terrible at intimate affairs like this. He maintained his smile long enough to look away. Then he quickly left Hot Rod's Shop in search of food.


	11. Adventures Down Under

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Beware of the hanky panky here. Cloud is learning how to 'let loose' here while trying to recover from his wild night of party._

**CHAPTER 10: Adventures Down Under**

_Be careful what you wish for, kid. The sleeper's dream can quickly turn into a nightmare._ Rod's last words still played in Cloud's mind as he waited for his Slack Season Wutai noodles and mindlessly tapped his fingers on the wooden counter. Above his head was a small black-and-white television with bunny-eared antennas. He had chosen a far corner spot at the restaurant's u-shaped counter, away from people. Cloud wasn't in the mood to make small random talk with anyone. Instead, he drank his glass of water in solitude and ignored the chaos around him.

The Diner had a good crowd thanks to the lunchtime rush hour. It was a popular place. Sadly, the owners of it couldn't think of an original name. Thus, the restaurant had simply been dubbed _the Diner_. Stupid? Yeah. To the point? Very much.

A thick haze had settled throughout the area. Large metal pots continuously steamed on rusted stoves. The Diner had all the style of a vintage restaurant with a few booths, a long wooden counter, and bricked walls. Black-and-white photographs lined against a wall, each showcasing the people and places connected to the establishment. At the far right corner of the place was a pool table and pinball machine. Unlike the restaurants on the Plate, there were no fancy digital interfaces or robots to tend to the Diner. It was all manual work committed by human hands. A rectangular shaped menu above the counter flickered on and off again and displayed the main entrees. Menus with more options were given out on cheap laminated paper.

Cloud's stomach grumbled from the smells of various dishes. With an impressive selection to choose from, the Diner served the best tasty and genuine food around. It was thanks to the surge of immigrants. Like Cloud, they all dreamt of making it big in Midgar City, only to fail and settle underground instead. They luckily brought with them the unique flavors of their native lands.

Glancing up at the television screen, Cloud watched the news coverage related to the Tsviets. The world was obsessed with them. Despite numerous requests, the super soldiers rarely conducted interviews and did not venture in public domain. Weiss the Immaculate often spoke on the group's behalf but kept his comments brief and sparse. Many tabloids that were on the hunt for juicy information claimed Weiss was in love. It must've been a special type of lady to attract the attention of a powerful Tsviet, Cloud thought. He sipped his water.

On the television screen was a blurred image of Weiss boarding a helicopter taken from a civilian's PHS. The teen halfway expected to hear about the alleged Tsviet sighting in the museum last night but nothing was mentioned. Neither was the shooting that supposedly happened. Before Cloud could contemplate over that, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

_"Hey, Beautiful_ ," came a male's voice, " _Wanna have some fun? I'll make it worth your wild for ten Gil."_

Taken by surprise, Cloud almost choked on his water. He set his glass down. His stool squeaked when he turned to confront a man with low-rising jeans and a sleeveless, white fishnet hoodie. His lips shined with glittery lipstick. Cloud's eyes narrowed. "Fuck. Kyle. Is that gonna be your new pick-up line?"

"Maybe. It got you to turn, didn't it?" Kyle lowered his hoodie and took a seat next to him. When the waiter arrived he demanded a bowl of Mie Ayam with taro-flavored bubble tea. Afterward, he grabbed a napkin from a dispenser to spit out his gum. "I'm surprised to see you here, Cloud. You off today?"

"Yea. But don't get any ideas. I've got my evening class after this."

"Aw. You're no fun. I can't believe you're still obsessing over the army. Or the Tsviets, for that matter. I heard they're all mentally unstable freaks, no doubt from the mako they always shoot up."

"I don't care what you think. It's my ticket to a better life." Cloud glanced at the television box again. He saw Weiss's confident face fill the screen. Then he looked at all the disheveled people in the diner and sighed. "I'm tired of living in this shithole, Kyle, working at a stupid job I hate while trying to make it. I wasn't born for this. I was born _to fight_ , to become something more."

"You know…" Kyle slowly began and leaned forward, "you're always introspective when you're moody, Cloud. You say some mind-trippy things when you're in the zone. Ha, I fucking love it."

"I'm happy to amuse you…" Cloud replied dead-panned.

Kyle rested a cheek on his palm and looked up at him. "How was your birthday party, love?"

"I can't say much about it. I got plastered last night."

One of Kyle's finely shaped brows rose. "Oh?"

"I blacked out."

At this, Kyle sat upright. He didn't blink. "Whoa. Wait a minute… _You blacked-out?_ "

"Yeah…" Cloud replied indifferently. He took out a block of ice from his glass and sucked on it.

Kyle erupted in laughter. He laughed so much his face flushed brightly. "Holy shit, that's awesome!"

"Not really…" Wincing now, Cloud readjusted himself in his seat when his back stung against it. "I apparently got into a fight last night too. Over what, I don't remember. Everything is scrambled in my head. I had to crash at one of my friend's place. In fact, I just dropped her off before coming here."

" _Heeeeeeer?_ " Kyle's wide-opened eyes stayed on Cloud. "Did you get laid too?"

"Not with her, idiot."

"Then with someone else?"

Cloud sucked on his ice cube again and thought a moment. It was hard to recall whether he had sex or not when half of his memory was infected by lucid dreams, wild thoughts, and blank spots. Reality intertwined with fantasy. Cloud was pretty sure he stayed at the booth most of the time, rarely interacting with the women at the club. Obviously, he didn't sleep with Jessie. And he didn't sleep with Ele' either since he would've been at her place this morning. It was a sure bet, then, he didn't have sex last night. That was a damn pity. He had wanted to unwind and celebrate his birthday with a big bang. Even so, a part of Cloud felt something had happened. Something else had transpired…

_Are you just going to stand there gawking, boy?_

"No," Cloud finally addressed Kyle again, unsure of that answer himself.

"No?" Next to him, Kyle frowned. "Well. That certainly sucks."

Cloud crushed the cube with his teeth. He rested his elbows on the counter and sat very hunched-like. "Whatever. I'm better off without sex. I need to stay focused. Sex is overrated anyway."

"Huh. Really?" Kyle slid a hand on Cloud's thigh. He gently squeezed it. "You sure about that?"

Cloud shot Kyle an annoyed look. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" the other boy innocently asked and rubbed his thigh.

" _That._ We're in public."

"So?" Kyle snickered and looked around. Everyone ate and talked; oblivious to them. He turned to Cloud. "See? Nobody knows what we're doing at our happy little corner. Public sex is fun anyway. Ever try it? It's like speed racing down a road without getting pulled over. Quite the adrenaline rush."

"You're weird." Cloud stared at the hand on his leg, grateful everything happened under the counter. "Can't you think of anything else besides sex?"

"Hey, _you're_ the one thinking crazy here."

" _Me?_ " Cloud sounded offended. "I'm not the one feeling up another guy right now, am I?"

Kyle took a long look at Cloud. His eyes followed the length of him, from his face to his body. "Despite what you might think, you've got the physical demands of any seventeen-year-old boy, Cloud. I know you beat off at home as much as I do. But, damn, when it comes to hooking up with someone? Well, you got all the ambition of a cranky lady on the rag, I'm afraid."

Cloud's initial reaction was to punch Kyle and tell him to fuck off. But he snorted instead, trying to suppress a laugh. Admittedly, he did find the analogy pretty funny. His reluctance to indulge in reckless sexual conquests like many boys did probably made him the most conservative person in Midgar. The two teens shared a chuckle and relaxed.

"All I'm saying is your youth ain't gonna last forever," Kyle explained later. "Pretty soon that pretty face of yours will have all the wrinkles and warts of an old man. If you're lucky, you'll have an old lady still alive and willing to blow you. Otherwise, you'll have to _pay_ for someone to do it. You'll start to regret all those younger days you hadn't let loose, back when the world still wanted to fuck you."

Cloud stared at his glass. The final blocks of ice continued to melt away as time ticked on. Quietly, he said, "I think you're overthinking things."

"Am I?" Kyle' paused long enough to position his hand over the front of Cloud's trousers. Even when the other teen appeared alarmed by this, he massaged the warm, soft budge there. Kyle leaned closer and spoke directly into Cloud's ear. "I know how it all plays out, you know. It used to gross me out when an old man crawled in bed with me, paying me to fuck him. But then I realized he is a walking and withering corpse. No one wants to fuck a rotting body. These old geezers are alone in the world in this sense. Their families have moved on and are simply waiting for them to die to collect the assets. Do you know what a walking dead man often thinks about before he dies? Getting laid."

Kyle's voice was serious and hushed, even as his hand moved in a slow rhythm below. He worked the budding muscle between the legs. Electric nerves shot up and Cloud softly exhaled.

"It kinda gives you a new perspective on life, you know," Kyle continued. "It makes you more thankful for what you got. I'd rather die living in the moment than live cautiously with regrets over the things I _could've_ done. Hell, I might end up like those guys who hang themselves for angel lust."

Cloud took a deep swallow. Some part of him hated Kyle. The other half understood every word he said and couldn't deny how _good_ this felt. He must've been sexually deprived for longer than he thought since his body reacted so willingly to Kyle's touches. The hot blood that flowed in his veins pumped faster. The air became heavier. It didn't help that Cloud's waking want was trapped within his trousers. This amplified any and all sensations he encountered. Cloud gripped the edge of the counter with both hands. He tried to breathe.

"See? This isn't so bad," Kyle murmured to him; his wicked hand still hidden under the counter. "…Is it?"

"You're a terrible man…" Cloud barely replied back, breathing heavily.

"Yeah. I can be a naughty boy," Kyle admitted. His pink painted nails slowly grazed the curved bulk along Cloud's thigh.

Cloud tried to keep a straight face, especially when the waiter briefly looked at their direction. He held his breath and stayed still. Those horrible, wonderful fingers didn't relent under the counter though. They worked their magic and followed along his length until they reached the tip. Exploring its blossomed shape, Cloud understood, without a doubt, why Kyle was the best man-whore on the streets. He had the gifted hands of an artist. It was likely the same for his mouth.

When the waiter turned away from him, Cloud blew out the air he had kept in. The top of his forehead felt damp. Staring at his lap now, he watched Kyle's fingers continue to grip him. The sight of the crude act stirred him. His erection twitched. Cloud licked his lips when the hand paused on his lap and drifted to the zipper of his pants.

"You can be naughty with me," Kyle whispered to Cloud as he undid the front of his trousers; the button and zipper. He carefully pulled out a hot mass of stiff flesh. "Let's be naughty together…"

Granted, the thought of experiencing this with Kyle or, for that matter, _another boy_ at a public restaurant created a cluster of mixed feelings in Cloud. There were a few elders and children present. There was also the waiter who stared at them suspiciously from time to time. Receiving a hand job in public domain was _wrong_. He knew that. And yet, as Kyle pointed out, it was an adrenaline rush. From being with another guy to doing this at a restaurant in daylight, it held all the danger and excitement he secretly craved for in his mediocre life. It was bizarre. Horrific. And thrilling. For whatever reason, Cloud's mind conjured up a terrifying figure in black.

_Do you feel this? Do you feel_ me?

It was around this time, the doors opened and a group of men in suits entered the Diner. Both Cloud and Kyle paused from their juvenile theatrics. They noted the abrupt silence that filtered into the restaurant. Only the jukebox kept playing. At the pool table, someone missed their shot.

The smell of expensive cologne and high-brand cigarette drifted from the five sharply-dressed men at the Diner's entrance. The one who led the group was a forty-something male with wavy, short brown hair. He maintained a well-kept beard along his jawline. A few wrinkles decorated his face. Black-glossed shoes clacked against the wooden flooring as he stepped forward.

Flanking his side was a younger male. With slender-shaped eyes and perfectly arched brows, the man sported Wutaian features. A diamond-shaped tilak was planted center of his forehead. The man's style was simple and conservative. His shoulder-length black hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. He kept close to the older male.

For the third man, he was young with short-cut, furious-red, spiked hair. A pair of slick black goggles held his stray bangs away from his face. Contrary to his companions, his posture was relaxed. He leaned on one leg while twirling a metal rod between two fingers. He accidentally smacked the side of a dark, bald-headed man directly beside him. Readjusting his sunglasses with gloved hands, the dark muscular man with a trimmed goatee gave off a grunt-like sound. He sneered at his red-haired companion.

Cloud caught sight of the last man in their group. Of them all, the teenager was intrigued with him the most. This man harbored a dark foreboding presence. His raven-black hair was cut into a short stylish and layered bob. A few strands covered half his face while the rest jutted out. His youthful profile suggested someone in their mid-twenties but his crimson eyes revealed an older man. Cloud noticed the arm sling on his left arm. An injury? The man remained silent as his party claimed seats at the counter.

"Mmm, Valentine…" Kyle practically purred and resumed stroking Cloud. "This is definitely a treat. Usually these guys hang out at the bar during their off hours. But from time to time they come here."

Cloud was just as surprised as Kyle was to see five members of the Turks at the Diner. They usually kept to themselves, away from the public eye. An organization of many secrets, citizens from the Plate and Slums alike feared them. And for good reason. With only a flip of their PHS they could make anyone in the planet disappear without a trace.

Cloud quietly grunted when Kyle's hand administrations intensified due to the skin-to-skin contact. He could feel the moist softness of his palm. With great labor, he asked, "…D-do you know them?"

"I know _about_ them." Kyle looked at the oldest man in the group while his hand pumped Cloud's shaft under the counter. "They visit the Don a lot. See that guy there? The oldest one? He goes by the name _Veld_. He's the head of the Department of Administrative Research. You don't want to fuck with him."

"You mean he's the leader of the Turks?"

"Yep. That's him. Veld answers directly to the President." A pause. "…How's that feel?"

"A little harder…"

"…There?"

"Mm. Yeah… Yeah, just like that…"

"You have a nice size. It feels good in my hand." Kyle looked back at the Turks across the Diner. Calmly, he revealed, "The rest of those boys are Veld's handpicked people. He rolls with this group a lot."

Cloud struggled to focus on the scene ahead. He could faintly hear the soft _fap_ -like sounds his warm prick made with each hard tug. A few drops of clear pre-cum juice erupted from a tiny slit. It dripped over Kyle's hand as he aggressively played with his cock. Cloud hissed when sticky fingers gripped him tighter. Thankfully, no one noticed the two teens fooling around at their corner spot. The jukebox music and nonstop diner chatter continued while everyone in the Diner focused on the Turks.

Licking his lips, Cloud paid attention to Veld again. Already seated, the high-ranked Turk removed a small stainless steel case from his coat's pocket. His fingers retrieved a cigarette from it. Next to him, the Wutai man already had a lighter out for him. He lit the nicotine stick.

"The one with the tilak on his forehead is Veld's right-hand man, _Tseng_ ," the street rat disclosed. "He's from Wutai. Man of many talents. He's a cold fish, I hear."

Tseng flipped the top of the lighter closed and slipped it into his jacket in two quick, smooth moves. He sat in silence. Any time his superior spoke he intently listened. Cloud had never seen anyone as frigid as this guy. Even in a relaxed environment like this, he was as responsive as a robot.

"The big-mouth there is Reno," Kyle notified when the red-haired Turk abruptly laughed from a joke. The Turk strayed from the group and took a spot at the pinball machine with the dark-skinned man. Kyle teased the slit of Cloud's flushed head with a finger and added, "Don't let his appearance fool you. He is as wild as he is unpredictable. One word from his boss and he'll split your head in half with a smile."

"And the other guy with him?" Cloud swallowed hard. "…F-fuck, you're good."

Kyle squeezed his stem. Then he turned to the bald-headed fellow Cloud addressed and answered, "He's Rude. He never takes off those damn, silly sunglasses. Not even at night. Rude and Reno are inseparable, like peanut butter and jelly."

Cloud breathed faster. His toes curled inside his shoes when Kyle's hand sped up again. Both sacs swelled and grew firm; bloated with hot seed. A dizzy, lightheaded sensation hit him. Cloud gripped the edge of the counter to keep his balance. With half-closed eyes, he watched the two Turks at the pinball machine while Kyle stroked him off faster.

Reno rapidly tapped the buttons of this game and hollered when he scored. Rude stood there like a wall. At the back of Cloud's mind, he wondered if this was the same Turk Biggs saw yesterday. There had been a Turk with sunglasses at a checkpoint shortly after the museum shooting. If Fuhito's claims were correct then there was a good chance these five Turks had seen the alleged 'monster'.

"And that one?" Cloud breathlessly asked, feeling his abdominal muscles contract. He kept his eyes on the man with a sling on his left arm. This Turk sat with Tseng and Veld but did not interact with any of them. "What's his story?"

"Vincent Valentine," Kyle informed with an adoring smile. "From what I hear, he was reinstated for active duty after being out of commissioned for a long time. I don't know all the details myself. But word on the vine is that he's close to the black-veiled man. He keeps close to him."

"Black-veiled man…" Cloud said slowly. A memory suddenly tugged in his head. As he struggled to dig it out of his fuzzy mind, he thrust his hips slightly forward to meet Kyle's hand strokes.

"I wonder if Valentine is his boyfriend?" Kyle wondered aloud. He briefly brought up his hand to spit on the palm. Then he resumed choking the life out of Cloud's cock. "That would be hot."

"Black-veiled man…" Cloud repeated, halfway lost in an impending climax.

"I'm kinda frustrated I missed the black-veiled man last night…" Kyle confessed. "I heard he was at a club. And I also heard this morning he has chosen his next client. Damn. I never got to see him."

Focused on his climax and a dim memory from last night, Cloud blocked out half of what Kyle said. He closed his eyes. _Black-veiled man_ , he thought to himself again and again. Black-veiled man. Black-veil. Black. Black. _Black_ … Cloud's brows furrowed. The memory was there. He could feel it throbbing at the back of his head, ready to burst out. But for the life of him, he couldn't get it out of him. In his mind he saw nothing but meshed black cloth and a shimmer of green hidden behind. He heard the sounds of a boy's giggle, followed by a deep and alluring voice. They called to him in unison. Cloud held his breath.

_Run along, silly boy. This one's fire burns too brightly for you. You'll likely be scorched alive under his touch…_

Next to him, Kyle noticed the desperate, hungry look on Cloud's face. The teen's body abruptly went tensed. Kyle drew closer to him and discretely placed both hands on him underneath the counter. He mentioned a few encouraging, profane words to Cloud. Then his hands pumped the rigid muscle faster and rougher until the swollen cock wobbled and squirted a long, thick string of white goop. It shot straight under the wooden counter. Two more lines of cum roughly hit the same area. Cloud bit deep into his bottom bruised lip. His body shuddered but he forced himself to stay in his seat.

" _Fuck_ …" Cloud whispered, panting. When he opened his eyes halfway, his vision was unfocused.

"Admit it," Kyle said to him and gently massaged Cloud's spent tip with a palm, "it was a rush."

Trying to catch his breath, Cloud agreed with a half-hearted scoff. He couldn't deny it. It was the best damn climax he had experienced in a long time. And with a _guy_ , no less. He flopped to one side and his head fell on Kyle's shoulders. Like a bolt that was no longer screwed on too tightly, Cloud felt looser now. He idly watched his cum drip down from the spots he hit. A faint memory of a black figure still circled inside his head but he was too spent and hungry to bother with it. Perhaps later, once his stomach was settled and his climax properly wore off, he could return to that strange thought.

Their waiter soon arrived with both meals. Kyle noticed the suspicious expression on the server's face and offered him an innocent smile. Then he took a few napkins from the dispenser after the waiter left and wiped off the semen between his fingers. Cloud did the same. He carefully cleaned his tip and the mess he made under the counter. Although he was still semi-hard, he managed to zip himself up.

"Maybe after this you can treat me to dessert," Kyle suggested with a clever smile on his face.

Cloud knew Kyle wasn't talking about sweet treats. He snickered at him. Then he grabbed his chopsticks and dived into his noodles.

Side-by-side, the two boys ate. It'd been too long since he had a good meal that Cloud immediately ordered a second bowl after the first was quickly consumed. Once in a while, Kyle struck up a random conversation. Most of it revolved around his clients. The good. The bad. And the downright ugly. Cloud listened for the most part but kept his eyes on the Turk called Valentine.

By now, the men in suits received their food and ate at the counter on the other side. Cloud noticed that Valentine never looked up from his bowl. Even while his group chatted amongst themselves, he and Tseng kept quiet. Cloud couldn't help but note the peculiar shine in the Turk's red eyes. In a way, they reminded Cloud of other strange eyes he came across. The memory of it though was a blur. Cloud continued to study Vincent Valentine from where he sat until Reno, a few seats away from Valentine, looked up and noticed him. The red-haired Turk made eye contact with Cloud. Then he stood from his seat and walked toward his direction. The dark-skinned Turk followed suit.

Immediately, Cloud glanced down at his bowl and regretted staring at Valentine. It was never a good idea to look at a Turk. People got shot that way. He overheard Reno whistle along with the jukebox's tune as he approached. One hand was dipped in his coat's pocket while the other twirled a metal rod. His step was in perfect synch with the song.

Cloud held his breath when Kyle suddenly stopped eating. He muttered a curse word, clearly alerted by the new arrivals too. A second later, Reno stopped next to them. Rude was only a few feet away. The red-haired Turk leaned his hip against the counter and looked down at the teens. He directed his attention to the one with wild, choppy blond hair.

"Yo, you work at Chocobo Chow. Right?" the Turk asked out-of-the-blue.

At first, Cloud refused to look up from his bowl. He still wanted to believe the Turk came for someone else. Silence followed, though, and a looming sense of being watched forced him to look up. Sure enough, eyes the color of green-blue stared at him. Cloud forced his mouth to work. "I work there…"

"Down at Twenty-First Street?"

Cloud felt his blood go cold. There were over thirty Chocobo Chow restaurants littered across Midgar City. This Turk somehow knew which one he worked at. Wearily, the boy confirmed, "Yea…"

The Turk grinned. The red linear tattoos stenciled on his cheeks stretched wide. "Thought I recognized ya. Yo, you work with Elena."

That last remark was more of a fact than a question. At first, Cloud cocked his head to one side; puzzled. It took him a moment to realize who he was talking about: Ele'. She rarely went by _Elena_. Cloud slowly nodded his head and disclosed, "I work with her, yes. But she goes by _Ele'_."

For some reason, that made the Turk laugh out loud. He playfully whacked his rod on his partner's arm. The bald-headed Turk beside him grinned. Something about Reno's cocky voice and stature annoyed Cloud. He was tempted to roll his eyes. Only a few seconds of conversation and he already didn't like this guy. Next to him, Kyle shared a similar frown. He slowly drank his bubble tea. Reno finally stopped laughing. He addressed Cloud again with the same goofy grin on his face.

"Do me a favor, Chocobo," Reno demanded, "Send the word: I wanna talk to Elena. It's important."

Cloud stared at him.

"It's premium, top-class shit, yo. Send the word. Feel me? Can you do that, Chocobo?"

Cloud's half-slit eyes stayed on the Turk. He absolutely _hated_ that name. He was not a Chocobo.

"There a problem?" Reno paused. After no response, he glanced at his partner. "Yo, Rude. Y' think if I feed this kid a few Carob nuts and a Zeio he'll talk? Maybe breed me one of those crazy-ass, rare Gold Chocobos too?"

The two Turks snickered together. Cloud clenched his hands into tight fists on the counter. He was one step away from getting to his feet and punching this creep. It didn't matter if he was a Turk.

"So ya gonna talk to Elena for me or what, Chocobo?" Reno pressed again and crossed his arms.

"My name is _Cloud,_ " the boy corrected through gritted teeth, "And if you want to talk to _Ele'_ then tell her yourself, Ginger."

Kyle nearly choked in his soup and looked up at Cloud. A waitress in the middle of passing someone their dish stopped in her tracks. A few diners shared similar ghostly, wide-eyed expressions. They all stared at Cloud as if he were a dead man. On the jukebox a song about a bad moon rising played.

Reno stood still. Cloud's bold choice of words and snarky attitude was not lost on him or his partner. Cloud could already sense the other Turks look his way. From across the counter, the one named Valentine finally raised his head up from his bowl of noodles. There was an unreadable look on his face.

_Way to go, asshole_ , Cloud told himself. He knew he should've stayed home on his birthday. If he hadn't gone to the club he wouldn't have gotten dead drunk. If he hadn't gotten drunk he wouldn't have ended up at Jessie's place. If he hadn't ended up at Jessie's place he wouldn't have entered Wall Market with her. If he hadn't entered Wall Market he wouldn't have dined at the Diner. And if he hadn't dined at the Diner he wouldn't be here with a gang of Turks sizing him up. _Fuck. His. Life_.

"H-heh, you have to excuse him," Kyle suddenly spoke and addressed Reno. He cleared his throat. "My friend here, uh, had a very crazy birthday party last night. He got plastered. He fucking _blacked out_. Can you believe that? It was _that_ kinda wild party." He chuckled. Then he placed a hand over one of Cloud's clenched fists and added, "Unfortunately, he is still working off the alcohol in his system. Please. Pay him no mind." Kyle dug two cards out from a pocket. It was a one-year membership to Honey Bee Inn. "For you and a friend, Reno. Give the receptionist my name. They'll treat you to the best ladies there."

Reno stared at Don Corneo's hired boy. He slowly accepted the two cards. The tone in his voice sounded less upbeat when he inquired, "A friend of yours, eh, Nunchaku? Legit, yo?"

The street rat pulled Cloud to him in a tight and inescapable hug. To everyone else, it was a bonding gesture. But to Cloud, it was Kyle's way of keeping him put. Kyle didn't want him to do anything stupid. Like pounce and strangle the Turk with his bare hands.

Kyle offered the Turk a sweet smile. "Cloud is the best."

Reno looked back and forth between Kyle and Cloud. The corners of his mouth eventually curved into an easy smile. He brusquely nodded his head. "Cool. No foul then. I hope your boy learns to hold his drink better next time. And to hold his tongue. I would hate for it to go missin'. Y' feel me, right?"

"I understand. I'll gag him with one of my toys next time."

Reno laughed at the crude joke. He pushed away from the counter and took a step back, preparing to return to his party. As he shoved the cards in his pocket, he told Kyle, "I'm hopin' you wise up some day, Nunchaku. Leave that blob you call a boss. Roll with us. We could use someone like you in our crew."

"What? And miss out on all the hot bunnies? Puh-lease. The Don treats me right."

"The Don's an idiot," Reno stated as matter-of-fact. He returned his attention to Cloud. "And as for _you_ …" He pointed his index finger at him and held up his thumb, as if it were a trigger. " _…Bam._ "

Reno chuckled at the playful, yet warning gesture. Cloud did not budge in his seat. If Kyle hadn't held him down he'd smash the Turk's teeth right in at this very moment. Reno and Rude gave him one more glance over. Cloud refused to waver or look away. With a glint in his eyes, Reno stuck his tongue out and showed a spiked metal piercing. Then he snapped his fingers to Rude only once and, like that, both left.

"Nicely done, man," Kyle mumbled sarcastically and exhaled slowly. "Nearly getting yourself killed by a Turk in daylight requires a special kind of talent. I couldn't have done it better myself." Loudly, Kyle slurped up his bubble tea.

Cloud stabbed a piece of meat with his chopstick. "He was being an asshole."

"Yeah, and so?" Kyle dismissed. "Sure, Reno can be an asshole. But I also warned you he's a _dangerous_ asshole; the type of hot-head you don't want to fuck with. Reputation is everything to Reno. If he sees anyone disrespecting him or his crew he'll make an example of him."

"Whatever," Cloud sneered back.

Kyle sat still for a second. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but are you being completely stupid or completely reckless when you say that? I can't tell."

"Pick one."

"Gods. You're a royal pain in the ass sometimes, Cloud…"

The two finished their meals in silence. While Cloud felt guilty for putting Kyle in an awkward and dangerous situation, he was too pissed to express an apology or gratitude for his intervention. Kyle thankfully didn't press on the matter. He gave him his space.

As they later paid for their respective meals, Cloud was glad the Turks hadn't finished their plates and would stay behind a little longer. The matter between them had already been settled. Nonetheless, he sensed someone watching him. Surprisingly, it wasn't Reno stalking him with a venom-like gaze this time. It was a silent Vincent Valentine. He'd been keeping a good eye on him since the confrontation. His crimson eyes trailed after him, even after Cloud and Kyle headed out of the Diner.

"Heading to class now?" Kyle asked as they walked down a path.

"Not yet. I'm gonna drop by my place to feed the dog, shower, and change."

"How _exciting_ ," Kyle remarked in a neutral-toned voice. "Don't forget to scrub the toilet and take out the trash after you've properly filed your taxes. You're living the life, Cloud."

"Yeah, the life of a mob boss's henchman is _soooo_ much better, I bet," he snapped back.

"I prefer the term, _faithful subordinate_ , thank-you-very-much." Kyle produced an exaggerated pout. "Anyway. Here, asshole. Maybe this will brighten up your day and help you to play nice with the kids next time." Kyle dug out a bag of grass from a pocket. He shoved it inside Cloud's coat. "Free of charge. Use it. I command it. I swear you take yourself too seriously sometimes."

"Says the man who butt-fucks every man in the block without a care in the world." Cloud glanced into his pocket and was pleasantly surprised by the amount given him. It would last him a week.

"Damn right I do," Kyle happily agreed and removed a ready-made joint from his person. As he lit it with a lighter, he said, "With you almost getting yourself killed back there, you could use a good butt-fuck."

"Whatever."

"Mm, there goes that dreadful _whatever_ again… Is that like your default answer for everything?" Kyle took a deep puff of his joint. He allowed the smoke to gather in his lungs before he blew out. "Seriously, man, you need to be more careful. You've been here long enough to know that certain lines can't be crossed. Especially with the Turks. I might not be there next time to help you."

"That's fine. I never asked for a babysitter. I can take care of myself."

"Maybe so. But I'll sleep better at night if you watch yourself and play it cool. The underworld is a very unforgiving place." Kyle gazed ahead and observed mountains of trash in the distance. "You can't pick apart the discarded dead bodies from the junk here. There's just too much of it."

Cloud shoved both hands into his coat's pockets and kept his eyes on the ground. He knew Kyle was right. If he pushed the wrong buttons and ended up dead, no one would distinguish his corpse from the countless piles of dirty baby diapers, needles, and trash bags. It was a terrible way to go.

Cloud looked at Kyle. "I get what you're saying. I do. I'll watch my temper next time. It's just…" He paused and gritted his teeth together. "I'm not going to be anyone's pushover. If I can't stand up for myself then what good am I to the Tsviets? Or anyone, for that matter?"

Kyle sucked in more smoke and didn't have a response. Soon, the two boys passed an items shop and cut through a dark alleyway. Rippled posters of LOVELESS hung along the makeshift walls that advertised show times. There were beer bottles and food wrappers scattered everywhere. Cloud looked out for glass and watched his step. When they reached deeper into the alleyway Kyle spoke again.

"You know… I never heard anyone call Reno a _Ginger_ before," he confessed. A smile emerged from Kyle's face. "That was actually funny."

"Trust me: I wasn't trying to break any records." The tension in the air seemed to lift with those words, especially when Kyle playfully jabbed him on the arm soon afterward. Cloud winced and rubbed his arm with a hand, still feeling sore from his wounds. Quietly, he said, "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

"For helping me at the Diner," Cloud clarified, "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, I did. I know you would've done the same for me."

"But I put you in an awkward position."

Kyle abruptly snorted and passed Cloud his joint in good spirits. "Damn, boy. You should know by now: _awkward positions are my favorite_. And speaking of which…"

There was a light in his eyes, a terrible light that Cloud recognized as mischievous. Bad things happened whenever Kyle gave him that _look_. Sure enough, Kyle stopped in the middle of the alleyway. He checked both ends of the narrow path. Cloud was about to ask him what was wrong until the other boy placed a hand on his chest. Kyle gently shoved him against a wall. Realization dawned on Cloud too late. He stood in silence as the boy placed his hands at the helm of his trousers. Fingers worked the button.

"What the hell…?" Cloud started. "W-what are you doing?"

"As I can recall," Kyle calmly explained, "I wanted dessert. Seeing as how I just saved your life and all..." He pulled down the zipper with one swift move. "…You owe me."

"Hold on… w-wait a minute."

"Don't be such a baby," Kyle teased and went on his knees. He took Cloud's warm member in his hands and stared at it. "You know, I've never had Nibelheim cream pie before. Does it taste sweet or mild?"

"You're gross…" Cloud pointed out but had trouble sustaining his voice.

"I'm all sorts of wrong, aren't I?" Kyle wrapped his hands around the tender muscle and pulled on it.

Cloud inhaled sharply. He nearly dropped the joint between his fingers. Pressing his back against the wall, tension built at the lower regions of his body with each stroke. His eager member stretched out and reached full potential again. Already, the engorged tip oozed with drops of pre-cum. The boy below placed a wet kiss on a very moist spot. Then another. And another. Kyle's tongue teased at the slick miniscule opening. Cloud sucked on his lower lip and idly noticed a torn LOVELESS poster across him. A Goddess-like figure stared back at him. Her cold green eyes, familiar to him somehow, bore into him.

" _She guides us to bliss,_ " Cloud faintly whispered, "… _her gift everlasting_." He sighed when his entire length suddenly became engulfed by glossy heat.

As Kyle suckled him, the image of an impressive-sized cock projected in Cloud's head. It was long, thick, and pale pink. Circumcised. A notable vein budged along its side. Cloud absently licked his lips. He didn't know why this image came to him or why it awakened a deep, primal want. His fingers clung to the locks of golden hair below. While the head between his legs continuously bobbed in a smooth circular motion, Cloud pictured the pale perfect cock in his mind again. He imagined himself tracing its vein with his tongue. Other absurd actions followed; other things he wanted to do with it. The sucking sounds grew louder. Lost in this cycle of euphoria, Cloud closed his eyes and shoved himself into the wet crevice. His hips repeatedly thrust in and out.

He never noticed the pair of red eyes glowing from a distance.


	12. Chocobo, Chocobo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Someone planted a funny mental image in my head. I had too much with it. (Thanks, Dodo! - yes, that is his/her username) It helps to play the Mortal Kombat theme song at a certain part of this chapter, fellow creepers. Just sayin'... XD_

  **CHAPTER 11: Chocobo, Chocobo**

_Chocobo, Chocobo_  
Where are you going, Chocobo?  
You flap your wings and aim for the sky  
Silly bird, don'tcha know you can't fly!

_Chocobo, Chocobo_  
Why are you running, Chocobo?  
To reach the fields of green with the blazing sun?  
Oh how your feathers shine gold as you run, run, run

_Chocobo, Chocobo_  
What are you doing, Chocobo?  
Pounce, stomp, you wark out loud  
Such a feisty beast with a great wicked sound

_Chocobo, Chocobo_  
Come here, lovely Chocobo  
Sit with me by my warm bright fire  
I'll wrap my arms around you and kiss you higher

_Chocobo, Chocobo_  
You're mine now, pretty Chocobo  
Hush, you squalling thing, hear what I say  
We'll stalk the fields together, somehow, someday

_Chocobo, Chocobo_  
Oh how I love you, sweet Chocobo  
Never leave me, never say goodbye  
Else I'll take you and make Chocobo cottage pie

_Naughty, Chocobo, naughty_  
Chocobo run, run, run  
To the fields of green with the blazing sun  
I'll catch you yet before this day is done!

_Chocobo, Chocobo_ … a popular children's song. The tune was on track three of Chocobo Chow's regular playlist. It came on every hour of the day. Cloud heard it now from the restaurant's outdoor speakers. He never liked that song. It drove him nuts. Having children sing about Chocobo cottage pie and hunting a poor animal because it ran for freedom sounded absurd. Yet, this passed as harmless _fun_. Cloud wondered what the hell was wrong with people sometimes. He quickly put this thought aside when a car drove past him and honked loudly. Growling, the teenager wanted to flip the driver a finger. He had bigger issues on his plate than a sadistic children's song right now.

Standing outside the restaurant in a yellow and fluffy Chocobo costume, Cloud Strife remembered why he hated his job. Sweat had accumulated between his toes while the mohair material of the suit made his skin itch. His sense of distance was off due to the very round shape of his costume. He couldn't get far without accidentally bumping into something or someone. The oversized feathery tail, alone, whacked whatever was behind him whenever he turned. What was equally annoying was the sheer weight of the Chocobo suit. Cloud continuously strained to lift his arms due to its heavy wings. Feeling a bit claustrophobic inside the head piece, his vision was limited to two tiny peep holes. Cloud's face was glossed with sweat. With every breath, his hot air collected inside the mask and created a damped, sticky space.

The teenager grew more and more irritated. For every car honk and funny stare he received on the street, Cloud thought of a new way to kill Mr. Mukki. Strangulation. Food poisoning. Kitchen knife stabbing. Decapitation by sword. Baseball bat bashing. A fucking potato cutter.

It was an early Thursday morning; the clouds still a murky gray color. A few rays of the sun managed to peak through from the west side.

Nearly a week had passed since the aftermath of Cloud's wild birthday bash. He still didn't remember much of it. Every now and then his coworkers poked fun at him. They reminded him of the time he supposedly slept on the sidewalk or claimed a shadow stalked him. Cloud paid no mind to any of it. His life had settled back to its regular scheduled program.

Every day Cloud woke up, commuted to work, looked out for creeps, attended evening class, sword trained, and dealt with the usual round of customers. He kicked back with his skateboard in the Slums' park whenever he wanted to relax; it was the only activity he could enjoy without triggering his motion sickness. His life returned to its rinse and repeat process but with some alterations.

On certain days, Cloud met with Jessie at Hot Rod's Shop. They went over the basics of bike riding. Getting used to the bike's delicate balance and its non-stop vibrations, he would sit shotgun while she rode. Progress had been slow but steady. When he didn't vomit, that was. Jessie also had him assist her in repairing the old, beat-up bike at Rod's shop. It was an exhilarating experience.

On other days, Cloud hung out with Nunchaku. They either smoked grass together or made out, feeling each other up. Being with a guy was still a strange experience for him though. They hadn't done anything too… _drastic_. But since his bizarre birthday party last week, Cloud felt bold enough to try out a few things. He admittedly enjoyed the perks of being with someone familiar with his hardware.

For Cloud Strife, day-to-day living had become tolerable and even enjoyable. Since he turned seventeen things had changed for the better. But then… _today happened_.

Today, Mr. Mukki got the stupid idea of doing a commercial for their Chocobo Chow restaurant at Twenty-First Street. Customer attendance was at a low for the past months due to stiff competition from another kid-friendly restaurant a few blocks away. The company executives wanted them to do something about it. And so, Mr. Mukki slapped Cloud in a Chocobo suit, assigned the rest of his bubbies as the amateur film crew, and got ready to read his lines. This morning they all assembled outside of Chocobo Chow before its opening hours to record their commercial.

"Bubby, don't forget to catch Mukki in a good light," the manager told the cameraman. Mr. Mukki checked his teeth on a hand mirror and picked at a particular spot with a toothpick.

Serving as today's cameraman was Biggs. He stood a few feet away and found a good shot of both Mr. Mukki and the restaurant. The image blurred in and out of focus. Next to him, Wedge struggled with the long rod of his microphone. He angled it above Mr. Mukki like a fishing hook, attempting to capture good sound. Ele' stood close by. A large portable stereo sat between her feet. Her hands were full with large white cards that contained Mr. Mukki's lines. Ignoring Biggs' nonstop chatter, she organized them.

Sweating in his costume, Cloud stood alone at his corner spot. It was thirty-degree weather outside but he stewed in his own steamy juices anyway. He wanted to tear off the head piece and take in the cool air. Cloud didn't understand why _he_ had been chosen to dress up as the Chocobo. Just because his hair was a chaotic, wild mess and people often compared it a Chocobo's ass it still didn't make things right. With a low growl, Cloud fidgeted in his bird suit. He wanted to get this stupid commercial over with.

According to the script, he needed to leap into the camera view and make _happy Chocobo sounds_ like an idiot while Mr. Mukki talked about their exciting deals. Cloud had yet to practice on the jumping. He already had trouble not tripping over his large floppy bird feet whenever he walked. Cloud didn't look forward to shooting this commercial, especially when random people on the streets stopped and stared at him. A tiny child on his way to school with his mother spotted the fluffy Chocobo mascot. He pointed and squealed. Beside him, his mother smiled and waved to Chocobo-Cloud. The teen sank deeper inside his costume with a flushed face.

"Okay, bubbies! Places!" Mr. Mukki clapped his hands. "Places! Let's get this show on the road. No time for dilly-dally-shilly-shally-milly-mally… Meh. You bubbies get the point. Make Mukki proud!"

On that note, Ele' turned on the stereo between her feet. Dramatic orchestral music with a children's choir wailed in the background; Mr. Mukki's soundtrack of choice for the commercial. He wanted something _epic_. Ele' held up the script cards while Wedge kept the microphone's rod steady, making sure it didn't appear in the camera shot. As Cloud scuffled to his position, careful not to trip, Biggs tried to steady his camera with both hands. He zoomed into Mr. Mukki's face. Chocobo Chow's manager cleared his throat and popped out his shirt's collar. As usual, Mr. Mukki's suit was two sizes too small. His heavy chest looked ready to burst out of his cheaply made jacket.

"Take one!" Ele' announced after everyone stood in their designated spots. "Action!"

"Welcome to your one and only Chocobo Chow restaurant at Twenty-First Street," Mr. Mukki read from the index cards. The choir music sounded majestic in the background. "Here in Chocobo Chow, we pride ourselves in providing you, our valued customers, amazing meals for a great price. But don't just take my word. Take it from our furry friend here!"

The camera zoomed out. In came a flying Chocobo-Cloud. He leapt forward into the camera shot with his wings spread wide. Fluttering them up and down like a madman, Chocobo-Cloud screamed at the top of his lungs, " _Wark! Wark! WAAAAAAARK!_ "

"Why, hello, Chocobo!" Mr. Mukki greeted with an over-the-top laugh. "It looks like even _you_ are excited about our latest menu selections. You _flew_ right in to hear about them? And here I thought Chocobos couldn't fly! Ha. Ha. Ha."

Chocobo-Cloud flapped his wings again and jumped. " _Waaaark!_ "

Mr. Mukki smiled, showing all white teeth. He quickly turned and addressed the camera. "Here at Twenty-First Street we got the Choco-Choco-Choo-Choo Chocobo and the classic Chowder Chewy Chocolate Chocobo Chopper. For only fifteen Gil, it's definitely a deal. Isn't that right, Chocobo?"

" _Waaaaark!_ " Chocobo-Cloud concurred and repeatedly bobbed his fat, flimsy head.

"Chocobo Chow uses nothing but the best ingredients provided by our locally-owned Chocobo farms," Mr. Mukki notified, "All of our Chocobos live the good life until that day comes when they magically transform into that unique top quality meat we all love!"

Behind Mr. Mukki, Chocobo-Cloud bounced left to right. He flailed his wings and warked loudly. In Cloud's head he wanted to die. He thought about the song that played earlier and how the Chocobo fled to a field of green. It was certainly better than this living hell.

Meanwhile, the choir of children sang louder. The stereo's music had reached a crescendo. So far, the commercial went smoothly. Mr. Mukki read his lines without referring to himself in the third person or calling anyone _bubby_. The amateur film crew also did a great job at capturing everything. Reaching the end of their scene, the manager stepped forward and looked directly at the camera.

"For a full list of our menu selections and daily deals, be sure to visit our website. Subscribe to our mailing list today and enter a chance to win a Chocobo Chow t-shirt and plushie. You can also order your meals through our online application. If you're in a hurry, don't worry! Our restaurant in Twenty-First Street has a drive-thru! So come on down. Start the day bright; start the day right. Right, Chocobo?"

_"Wark! Waaaark! Waaaaaar-_ AAAAAHHHH-GAWDDAMNIT!"

It was at this point, Chocobo-Cloud tripped during a bounce. The bird boy had awkwardly landed on his floppy feet and fell face-forward. On the ground, Cloud moaned inside his furry suit.

"Oh crap!" Wedge panicked first. The chubby teen was ready to drop the rod and check on Cloud. But he swung his microphone rod too quickly. It smacked Mr. Mukki right on the face.

"EEEEeeeeee!" The manager's immediate squeak sounded like a distressed girl. Temporarily blinded, Mr. Mukki staggered back and forth and repeatedly rubbed his eyes with both hands. "Mother of Gaia! Mukki can't see! _MUKKI CAN'T SEEEEEEEEE!_ "

"Damn it…" Ele' muttered with a sigh. Dropping the cards, she decided to help before things got worse. In her haste, though, her feet accidentally tripped over the stereo. Ele' landed hard. "Son-of-a-bitch!"

The children's choir music played on as the Chocobo Chow crew tried to recover from this disaster. Behind the camera, Biggs snickered and kept recording. His shaky camera screen showed Ele' muttering a long line of incoherent curse words while the manager cried a few feet away. Wedge stood next to him, sprouting one apology after another. Meanwhile, the camera caught sight of Chocobo-Cloud. He rolled back and forth on the ground, attempting to get to his feet. The large round shape of his costume nearly made it impossible. He was no better than a baby trying to stand.

Nearby, a random passerby hysterically laughed. He had his PHS out. With tears in his eyes, the man recorded the entire event. More people gathered to watch for themselves.

Biggs quickly panned his camera back to Cloud when he managed to get up; disheveled feathers and all. The camera stayed on the fluffy bird boy. It followed him as he marched straight up to the laughing guy with the PHS. Cloud's words were muffled by his oversized mask and the lack of Wedge's microphone. He sounded pissed off though. The giant Chocobo flapped a wing at the young man. When the obnoxious guy didn't stop laughing and kept his PHS on Cloud, the bird boy snatched the cellphone and threw it on the ground. It shattered into several pieces. Biggs' eyes widened from behind his lens.

In a matter of seconds, a fight broke out. Man versus Chocobo.

It was a battle of epic proportions. The camera's view of the battle shook nonstop but Biggs shot everything. Feathers flew everywhere. Unflattering words were exchanged along with blows. Chocobo-Cloud remained unharmed, however. None of the other man's punches could connect due to the sturdy softness of his costume. The bird boy retaliated with a firm whack with his wing. Then another. _Whack-whack-whack!_ As the young guy stumbled backward, Chocobo-Cloud followed up the attack with a swing of his large feathery tail. It was enough to push the man down. With his enormous bird-like feet, Chocobo-Cloud stomped on the man.

The group of people gathered closer around them. They cheered and whistled. On the sidewalk, the child cried while the mother covered his eyes.

By the time Shinra infantrymen arrived to diffuse the situation, the male on the ground lay curled in a ball with his hands over his face. Aside from a bruised arm and ego, there weren't any permanent injuries. He was whisked to a hospital anyway as a precaution. It took the combined efforts of Ele', Wedge, Biggs, and Mukki to calm Cloud down, meanwhile. He was too annoyed and embarrassed to take off his mask. Chocobo-Cloud stood at his spot when the three Shinra IMs approached him.

This very bizarre altercation earned the unruly country boy an assault charge. Thankfully, the troops could not stop laughing. Nor could they find it in themselves to arrest the beloved Chocobo Chow mascot. They issued Cloud a court date and a two-hundred Gil fine for the incident. Case closed.

* * *

When the dust had finally settled an hour later, Chocobo Chow was opened for business. Cloud found himself in Mr. Mukki's office with all the boredom of a seventeen-year-old angst-ridden teenager. He sat alone. According to his wristwatch, it was close to ten. The stupid costume was gone and Cloud now wore the standard uniform he donned every day in this godforsaken place.

The first wave of customers had already been served. While the rest of his coworkers stayed at their assigned stations, Cloud quietly chewed on a stick of gum and waited for the inevitable _talk_ with Mr. Mukki in his office. No doubt the manager wanted to go over what had happened earlier this morning. It would likely lead to another write up; his third to date. For a moment, however, Cloud considered the possibility of getting fired. Perhaps he'd gone too far this time. The teenager quickly brushed the gloomy thought aside. He rocked up and down on his squeaky chair.

Cloud's eyes wearily took in his environment. The manager's office was a place of wonders, driven by ego and a flamboyant flare. A marble statue of Mr. Mukki's face sat on a pedestal. His masculine features conveyed an oh-so-serious expression that often made Cloud roll his eyes each time he saw it. The man obviously couldn't get enough of himself because, to Cloud's left, hung a six-by-six foot screen printing of the boss too. It was a series of Mr. Mukki's portraits in all colors of the rainbow.

Fucking ridiculous.

Checking the fuzzy carpet below his feet, Cloud noted the collage of butterflies there. They suspiciously looked like giant cocks with wings. There were enough of them in various patterns and colors to make any person under the influence trip out. Cloud's face twisted into a grimace when he briefly eyed the framed pictures along the walls: Mr. Mukki's _bubby club_. They were mostly middle aged men who shared the same goofy-shape of the boss's moustache. The men also wore similar tight-fitting muscle shirts, their pectoral and arm hairs peeking out. Cloud looked away but soon made another face when he spied a long loveseat couch. He recalled the time Mr. Mukki napped there… wearing only a bright green thong with pink fuzzy socks.

Cloud still couldn't wash that image from his mind.

At the very least, Mr. Mukki was a tidy man. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere and the air smelled of pumpkin spice. All of the paperwork was neatly piled together on top of a glassy, yellow-lit desk, along with a laptop. The corkboard nearby was evenly littered with pink heart-shaped notes. All the trash had already been taken out. Not far away was a bench press with a rack of dumbbells. They were placed in their sequential numbers.

Cloud slowly spun his seat around while he popped a big bubble in his mouth. His eyes locked onto Mr. Mukki's infamous surveillance system. He smirked. Ah, yes. _That_.

The surveillance system was the boss's pride and joy. Ten top-modeled, high-definition monitors were stacked together as a group against the far back wall. Below them, a long shelf housed a number of discs that contained recorded footage. Each monitor offered fully colored interior and exterior shots of the restaurant. It was a well-known fact Mr. Mukki liked to spy on his employees through his _extra pair of eyes_. Cloud imagined that in this small funky office, Mr. Mukki became a God.

In monitors one and two, Cloud saw various shots of the main eating area. Onscreen, Ele' served. There was a large amount of people in the restaurant, more than the usual amount for a Thursday morning. A man touched Ele's ass while she briefly bent to set down his tray. She promptly twisted his hand in one quick move. With no audio, Cloud watched the man silently yell and fall back on his chair. Asshole.

Monitor three provided an interior shot of the kitchen. Dressed in the mandatory Chocobo Chow apron, Biggs was in the middle of picking his nose when he suddenly noticed one of the patties burning at the cooking section. He quickly grabbed a fire extinguisher. Several robotic units scurried to his aid; their emergency lights blazed. The entire screen soon became a cloud of white spray. Biggs. What an idiot.

Monitor four covered the prep area. A few part-time rookies struggled with the station's interface commands. Two were in the middle of a heated verbal exchange. Both pointed their fingers at the other while their fluffy Chocobo hats furiously bounced up and down any time they shook their heads. Another employee blankly stared at a wall. He had the look of a dazed man questioning his life's decisions. Good grief.

An exterior downward shot of the drive-thru appeared in camera five. There was a long line of customers waiting to be tended to. Again, it was more than their usual attendance. Cloud wondered why so many had come. This was quickly turning into a hellish day at Chocobo Chow.

Monitors six and seven presented the restaurant's parking lot. It was nearly packed with cars. More still came through the other entrance. One of the cameras showed Wedge rolling out of Chocobo Chow with the food truck. He nearly ran over a dog but managed to swerve in the last second and hit the corner of a dumpster instead. Niiiiiice. That would cost a pretty Gil.

Monitor eight was another exterior shot. It displayed the children's playpen. Due to the chilly weather and it being a school day, not many children played outside. A mother and her tiny daughter occupied the Chocobo slide while a private schoolboy clad in dark clothes sat by himself on a Chocobo swing. The lonely boy swung up and down. His short silvery hair waved back and forth against the wind. He never looked up; never showed his face. It was as if he knew the hidden camera was there.

Cloud inwardly scoffed to himself. He wasn't surprised Mr. Mukki had a shot of every major location in his restaurant. Only monitors nine and ten were turned off. Curiosity got the best of the teen as he stared at the two blank screens. Then Cloud stood and approached the surveillance system. Turning the two monitors on, he narrowed his eyes at what he saw.

Monitor nine contained an interior shot of the men's restroom. It exposed the urinals while camera ten covered a top perspective of the stalls. As if Mr. Mukki's creep factor wasn't already high enough, Cloud now had undeniable proof he was a Peeping Tom. What a very sad and horny man.

Footsteps approached from an adjacent hallway. Cloud switched off the two monitors and hurried back to his seat. A moment later, the manager arrived.

Mr. Mukki held a PHS in one hand while he carried a cup of hot coffee in the other. Both of his eyes remained puffy from Wedge's accident an hour ago. He blinked twice in rapid succession, but could still see where he walked. At least the manager didn't wail like a baby anymore. That shit had been annoying. Briefly, Mr. Mukki looked up at Cloud. His smile appeared lopsided as he made his way to the desk and set down his items.

"Sorry for the wait, bubby," the manager started. "Mukki had a loooooot of things on his plate. So many things; so little time. Tick-tock, tick-tock."

Cloud quietly chewed on his gum. He wondered if that meant good news or bad news.

"Eh, how is Mukki's bubby holding up?" the manager pressed again.

The teen popped a bubble. Cloud wanted this show to start already. He always hated small talk.

"Oy, don't be afraid to talk. Mukki is here for his bubby." The manager waited for a response. When none still came, he sipped some of his coffee. Then he turned on his laptop and typed something on the keyboard. His eyes stayed on the screen as he asked, "Bubby, you know why you're here, right?"

Cloud nodded.

"Watch this," urged the big guy with a sigh. He turned his laptop around and mentioned, "Someone linked Mukki this. Mukki wants his bubby to see it."

On his laptop screen was the MyTube website; a popular place where many online users uploaded random material for their viewing pleasure. At the _What's Hot_ section, there was a recent video entitled, _Man Pwned by Chocobo_. It was uploaded only half an hour ago. With already eighty thousand views and nearly the same number of _thumbs-up_ approval ratings, it was a major hit.

Cloud's face paled significantly when he recognized the footage: it was a recording of his fight. The author who uploaded it had taken a few creative liberties with it though. Not only did the author colorfully add the fighting theme song from the _Immortal Combat_ videogame in the background, but he or she also included punching sound effects. Two visible health bars appeared throughout the video. The words, _FINISH HIM_ , popped up shortly before Chocobo-Cloud knocked down his opponent onscreen. Fake blood animated from the fallen young man as Chocobo-Cloud repeatedly kicked him.

" _FATALITY!_ " a dramatic voice boomed from the laptop speakers.

Mr. Mukki lowered the volume after that and cleared his throat. Afterward, he took a very long sip of his coffee and avoided eye contact.

The _Immortal Combat_ theme song occupied the silence that lingered between them. Cloud's face flushed red. In the video's comments section he noticed a large number of people share the video to their friends and favorite online channels. Many had also posted colorful remarks. _Need to invite him to my kid's birthday party_ , wrote one online user. _Gimme a spicy order of Kung-POW-Chocobo please_ , added another. _When food fights back,_ a third posted.

There were a thousand more wise-ass comments listed below the video. Looking away from it now, Cloud ignored the rest. It was bad enough he fought some random guy in a Chocobo suit, but now he had acquired MyTube notoriety. Nearly swallowing his gum, Cloud's chair squeaked when he sank deeper into it. He wanted to disappear inside his seat.

"Thankfully, the recording never shows bubby's face," Mr. Mukki mentioned when he noticed the uncomfortable look on Cloud. He set his coffee down and immediately added, "There's also some good news. Get this, bubby: _tons_ of bubbies have arrived since the video went viral. In fact, more bubbies keep pouring in by the second. Online orders have tripled!"

Cloud remained tight-lipped, unsure of how to react to this news.

"So technically speaking, Mukki's goal has been accomplished." His lips shaped into a sloppy grin. "Chocobo Chow is getting more traffic and beating the competition by a landslide!"

Still feeling numb by the whole experience, Cloud merely looked down at the carpet. He stared at the vast collection of colorful, flying dicks there.

Pausing now, the manager straightened the left tip of his moustache with two fingers. He expected a response of some kind by now. As before, there was none. Mr. Mukki slowly nodded his head and later disclosed, "The district manager is already aware of the situation, bubby. Mukki talked with him earlier. At first, he was upset. But once Mukki told him about the flood of bubbies stopping by?" The manager suddenly beamed. "Hoo boy, he was excited! He actually wants to change our commercial concept and use a part of your fight for a different edgier message: _Chocobo Chow's menu kicks ass_. Woo!"

Cloud glanced up with only his eyes. He wasn't sure whether to be honored or embarrassed by that change of direction. Regardless, it was actually good news the district manager no longer had a problem. Had he stayed pissed, Mr. Mukki would have had no choice but to fire him right now. Cloud felt his tensed shoulders relax. He waited for his boss to continue.

"The district manager has already issued a statement to a few bubbies from the press who caught whiff of the story. The powers-that-be will handle them though. They're already paying off that guy you beat up, including getting his permission to use his face for the commercial. See? Everyone wins, bubby!" Mr. Mukki clasped his hands together and leaned forward on his desk. "But the district manager specifically instructed Mukki to tell his golden bubby to keep silent. It's a way to keep your anonymity. If anyone asks who the bubby in the Chocobo suit was, Mukki's top ace says: _no comment_. Savvy?"

Dried-mouth, Cloud managed a weak, "Sure…" He honestly wanted to puke at this point.

"Don't worry, bubby, this will all pass over soon enough. Mukki already talked with the others. His bubbies all swore to keep quiet on the matter. Mukki especially had a good talk with Biggs; that particular bubby has a big mouth. But don't worry, I set him straight." He smiled and stood from his chair. While he approached a metal cabinet on the other side of his office, Cloud collected himself.

Only an hour ago Cloud's life had been fine. In fact, the only worries that consumed his mind these days involved the Shinra try-outs and an upcoming date with Jessie. The car mechanic had readily agreed on attending the LOVELESS play with him this weekend. It was a done deal. Cloud already purchased the tickets and found a good restaurant within his budget. But he needed to drop by the Pharmacy soon.

Cloud had gotten along with Jessie surprisingly well. She was easy-going and attractive in a rural kind of way. Like Tifa. Granted, there was the no-kissing rule on the first date. Still. Cloud didn't want to take a chance if he got lucky. Unless Jessie was a fan of the pulling-out method, it would be a good idea to purchase a pack of condoms from the Pharmacy before their date. Just in case. As a precaution. For peace of mind. That's what Cloud kept telling himself.

Unfortunately, buying rubbers proved to be an embarrassing moment for any self-respecting teenager. He had spent the past few days gathering the courage he needed to accomplish his mission. Cloud failed each time. By now, the Pharmacist had seen his face enough times at the counter to suspect he wasn't there for bubblegum or motion sickness pills.

It was never a dull moment in Cloud's life. This morning's event, however, reached a whole new level of absurdity. No way would Shinra or the Tsviets take him seriously if they ever learned he was the infamous Chocobo mascot brawler. That description, alone, didn't inspire fear in the hearts of Behemoths or Shivas. Cloud really hoped Ele' and the others kept their mouth shut. So help him, he would hit a Limit Break if they didn't.

So caught up with his newfound concerns, Cloud didn't notice the lights in the office suddenly go dim. Nor did he pick up the scent of rose from freshly lit candles in the office. It was only when Cloud heard a lonely saxophone play from a stereo that he shot an eye at the manager behind him.

With a file folder in his hand, Mr. Mukki batted his lashes. He must've reapplied cologne since he smelled strongly of mint now. A shade of pink flushed across the older man's cheeks. He grabbed a chair and planted it beside Cloud. That cheesy saxophone music played as Mr. Mukki scooted closer.

Oh _hell_ no, Cloud thought. He promptly readjusted his chair and moved it inches away from the bear man. Cloud soon demanded, "Are we done here, sir?"

Mr. Mukki blinked for a moment, as if caught off guard by the question. Or perhaps he just realized his _charms_ didn't work on a grumpy seventeen-year-old boy with a lot on his plate right now. Regardless, Mr. Mukki blushed and showcased a shining smile. "Mukki understands his golden bubby will be enlisting in Shinra's army come spring time, right?"

Cloud kept his arms crossed and guard up. He settled for a nod.

"That's too bad. Mukki's bubby is the hardest worker bee here."

In his seat, Cloud stayed quiet. A part of him grew anxious by those words. Mr. Mukki had always known about his desire to enlist. Everyone did. Still, the big dork never took it seriously and assumed it would never happen. A concerning thought suddenly crossed Cloud's mind.

"Mukki is sad to hear his bubby wants to leave," the manager admitted. His thick moustache drooped downward. "Mukki had hoped his bubby would change his mind, especially since you've been here for three years."

Cloud stopped chewing on his gum. That unsettling thought in his head grew tenfold. He didn't like the direction of this conversation. It was common practice for the fast-food industry to dump any persons with no future prospects toward the company. College degreed grads and those enlisting in the army were often the case. Chocobo Chow preferred employees who remained loyal in the long run. It was financially viable for them. Less training. Less investment time. Less fuss. With the ongoing flood of applicants who sought work on the Plate, from below and above, it was easy to replace a guy like him. The nasty write-ups on his record also didn't help. Cloud stared at the space between his feet again.

"Mukki's bubby is always here on time," continued the manager. He opened the folder in his hands. "You keep focused on the task at hand and take the initiative. Believe Mukki when he says he pays attention to everything that goes on in his restaurant. All of it."

Cloud didn't doubt that for a second. However, Mr. Mukki's shady extracurricular activities were the least of his concerns right now. More and more, Cloud became worried. This private talk had all the unsettling vibe of an 'it's-not-you-it's-me' goodbye speech.

He needed this job. Fucking _needed_ it. There was the monthly rent, food expenses, and evening class to cover. Even his commute fees added up. Perverted bosses and annoying customers Cloud could handle. If he had to wear that stupid Chocobo suit again and refer to himself in the third person too, he'd do it. But losing his job? Living in the streets? Not having the Gil to pay his reapplication fee for Shinra? No. That was too much for Cloud. He'd come this far and survived without resorting to drugs or prostitution like all the other boys his age did. Cloud Strife may have been a lot of things. Reckless. Foolish. Hot-headed. But he was no sell-out. Cloud had his spirit and that was the only thing keeping him going.

"Mr. Mukki," Cloud finally interjected before things got too far, "I know I lost my cool early this morning. That was stupid. But I'll get better. It won't happen again. And I'll always give double the effort. Even if I'm trying to enlist, that doesn't change my dedication to this restaurant or the company."

"Mukki knows… Mukki knows…" the manager quietly affirmed. He took out a sheet of paper from the folder and held it in one hand. "That's why Mukki has to personally tell you this news…"

Cloud became silent again. He held his breath and waited for the inevitable two words: _you're fired_.

"Mukki knows you have your ups and downs. Mukki has had to write up all the naughty-naughty things his bubby did. But…" The manager's voice trailed into silence. Looking at Cloud now, he offered the sheet of paper to him and didn't say another word.

Cloud's initial reaction was not to accept it. From his seat, he glared at the paper as if it were a deadly virus being passed to him. He mentally concluded it was his resignation paper. This was it. This was his worst case scenario come to pass. Cloud wasn't sure whether to accept defeat or fight for his job.

"Mukki wanted his bubby here…" the manager spoke again when Cloud refused to take the paper, "…because Mukki has an assistant manager's position opened."

In his seat, Cloud paused. He frowned. When he managed to find his voice again, the sound that slid out of his mouth was low and rough. "Uh, _what?_ "

"An assistant manager's position is opened."

Cloud still didn't understand what this had to do with him. He was about to get fired. He was here to fill out the necessary paperwork and turn in his uniform. Wasn't he?

"Mr. Mukki thinks you would make a good manager." The coarse moustache stretched as he smiled. "This is the application for it. Here. Take it."

Cloud sat still. His eyes locked on Mr. Mukki. Then he glanced at the paper. He slowly blinked. It had to be a trap. There was no way Mr. Mukki would offer him a promotion. Just an hour ago Cloud had made a fool of himself. He had fought a random guy on the street while dressed as a fucking Chocobo. It earned him a court date and fine. Yet, here was Mr. Mukki. Offering him a promotion?

Cloud finally exhaled and slumped in his seat. His body required more oxygen to process this train of thought. None of it made sense. The teen concluded Mr. Mukki must've smoked something before their meeting. The manager obviously got the wrong guy.

"Bubby, the pay would be good for you," the manager disclosed, noticing Cloud's hesitation. "It would get you out of the Slums. You could own your own home. Full healthcare benefits too. It's the works."

Cloud forced his mouth to work again. He shook his head. "But… _why?_ I just… I'm not even sure… Am I even qualified for this position? I just screwed up this morning."

"Everyone makes mistakes," the big guy reminded Cloud with a single nod. "Mukki makes plenty. Hah, so many. You wouldn't believe how many! But Mukki sees a lot of potential in you. Mukki believes you would make a great leader someday. You're the one to lead the bubbies during lunchtime rush hour. Heh, with that type of leadership, you could lead a group of strangers through the apocalypse."

Staring at the application in the manager's hands, Cloud didn't know how to feel about this. It was so sudden. An assistant manager position provided a permanent job with an opportunity to go up the social ladder. Cloud could afford an apartment at the Plate since the salary was good. Hell, he could visit his mom whenever he wanted and check out the beaches in Costa del Sol. His healthcare and dental would be covered. No more scrapping by. No more making ends meet. It was the ideal position he could get as a non-degree, home-schooled country boy his age.

However. Mr. Mukki got the wrong guy. Cloud wasn't _leader_ material. He could barely balance his own life, let alone a group of people. In the times Cloud managed a kitchen disaster or fixed an issue at the prep station he accounted it to pure luck. The incident this morning proved he had his limits and wasn't the most level-headed man for the job. Once someone pushed his buttons he went off like a bomb. With a soft sigh, Cloud rubbed a tensed spot at the back of his neck with a hand. To him, the most concerning aspect of this promotion didn't just involve his inability to fulfill the role. It was the fact it also closed off many doors. Including the one that led to the Tsviets.

"Bubby, you don't need to give Mukki an answer right now. But think it over, okay?" the manager said after a long moment of silence between them. "Think long and hard but know this window of opportunity won't last long. Mukki has to fill up the spot as soon as possible. A lot of bubbies want this position, including those from the Plate with their fancy business degrees. Mukki wanted to give you first dibs though. You're Mukki's number one."

"Just like that?" Cloud quietly asked. His doubtful, wary mind refused to accept this offer at full value. "You're telling me I'd get the position if I just filled out this application? Today? Right now?"

"Yep. Yep. And yep."

"But my track record…" the teen pointed out, "My lack of degree… Experience… My age…"

"Let Mukki handle that. Mukki will send in a good word for his bubby to the district manager. You'll also receive training for the position if you accept it. Don't worry about any of that." The manager winked. "But think it over. Okay? Not many opportunities come to a boy like you, especially with your history."

Cloud winced a bit, slightly taken aback by that last comment. Yet, his boss was right. Mr. Mukki may have been a weirdo but he possessed a genuine concern for his bubbies. This was the boss's way of getting Cloud out of that shithole in the Slums. It was why he had first dibs in the position. Mr. Mukki wanted the job to go to someone who could benefit most from it, whether they were fully qualified for it or not. This type of decision-making made Mr. Mukki the best and worst manager in the world.

Accepting the application at last, Cloud briefly looked over it. It contained the typical questions. Nothing too fancy. He didn't doubt the job provided a golden opportunity many wanted, including the more qualified variety. And here it was. In his hands. _Literally_. The completion of this application form would secure him for life. End of story. Cloud's fingers clutched the form.

"The coming weeks look busy, by the way," Mr. Mukki mentioned and sipped his coffee. "A lot of bubbies are visiting Midgar City for the opening winter festivals. This means Mukki has a lot of hours to give. Bubby, you'll be getting extra time on the clock, as many hours as an assistant manager's. Okay?"

There was a small smile on Cloud's face. Extra hours meant extra Gil. He'd need to work his training schedule and class around it, but it was definitely worth it. It meant more income to cover his regular expenses. Perhaps he could even indulge himself and get a proper haircut.

"It'll be a lot of hard work," the manager warned. "The upcoming schedule will give bubby an idea of the hours. Um… the girlfriend might not see you too much."

"I don't have a girlfriend," Cloud corrected, "so it won't be an issue."

" _Oh?_ " Mr. Mukki's eyes abruptly lit up and he sat straighter. " _No_ girlfriend, bubby?"

Cloud frowned. He instantly regretted exposing that bit of information. It wasn't long before the big bear donned a goofy grin on his face. His thick moustache sparked with a life of its own. Mr. Mukki pulled out a handkerchief from his coat's pocket and patted himself. He profusely sweated now.

"That's unfortunate, bubby," he later said. Obviously not sad. "A bright bubby like you… _Single._ Imagine that? Such cruelty. The inhumanity."

"Yea, _imagine that_ …" Cloud sarcastically spat back. He nearly rolled his eyes.

Mr. Mukki scooted close to him again. In the dimly lit office, more saxophone music played. The fire of the candles flickered. Mr. Mukki stretched his arms upward and dramatically yawned. He swung a bulky arm around Cloud's shoulders. As if it was an accident. Riiiight. Cloud tried not to laugh at his boss's cheap and very cliché advances. His nose wrinkled at the intense scent of mint.

"I need to head off, sir," Cloud informed and stood, ready to leave. "I appreciate your recommendation. I'll definitely look over the application and give you my answer as soon as possible."

"Oh, bubby, stay and relaaaaax." The stupid grin never left Mr. Mukki's face. He eagerly patted on the empty spot Cloud had occupied just a second ago. "Daddy gets so lonely sometimes."

"Not interested." Cloud folded the application several times before slipping it into a back pocket. Then he headed out the door.


	13. Night Creepers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I find these types of daily life moments fun to write. It gives me a chance to drive into Cloud's private little world. Warning: disturbing moments, some mature content._

**CHAPTER 12: Night Creepers**

By the time Cloud's shift ended his watch read ten minutes past eight. The commute back home via train had become a tiring, tedious affair due to rampant thoughts pertaining to today's events. Those thoughts constantly replayed themselves to the point of giving Cloud a headache. It was because of this he avoided MyTube or any mentions of his fight while randomly browsing online with his PHS. He checked his inbox and any news on the Tsviets, instead, trying to place his focus and mind on those types of things. But while it was easy to dismiss the Chocobo Chow video, he had a harder time setting aside the job promotion Mr. Mukki had offered him.

Sitting by himself at the far back of the train, Cloud's troubled mind weighed two life-changing decisions back and forth. One path led to a dull, yet financially stable future. The other route proved fulfilling yet questionable, uncertain, and dangerous. Cloud's dream possessed all the fragility of an eggshell.

Outside his window, Cloud observed his descent to the underworld. The train had a long ways to go. Above his head, beams of florescent lights flickered on and off again while the metal walls loudly rattled from the train's non-stop motion. Horns blew at intersections.

The pill he'd taken for his motion sickness already settled in his stomach. Cloud made no sudden movements in his seat though and took long steady breaths throughout his trip. Wearing his ear buds, the teenager kept to himself as usual. Not many people used the train during the evening hours. Those that did often weren't the inviting kind.

There were roughly ten passengers in the compartment with Cloud. Most of them were Slum residents. Five seats ahead, a prostitute currently sat on top of a pale skinny thug. Her mini-skirt was hiked up to her hips. The woman's exposed breasts flopped up and down while she vigorously grinded her ass against him in a fast rhythm. She tossed her head back and groaned. Cloud looked away from the crude scene, fearful it would bring about an unwanted stiffness. He increased the volume of his music to block out the heavy grunts and skin-slapping noise. Closing his eyes, he slept halfway through his commute.

In his dream, Cloud saw a proud yellow Chocobo. The _Chocobo, Chocobo_ song played in the background on repeat. Mr. Mukki made an awkward appearance as a butterfly. His rainbow-colored wings fluttered and sprinkled glitter. Again and again he told the yellow Chocobo to follow him to the ranch where all the other Chocobos flocked. It was a safe and happy place, he mentioned. Mukki-the-Butterfly promised to make the bird leader of the pack. But the lovely yellow Chocobo turned away and dashed toward an open field of green instead.

The beautiful landscape had many hills and a few sprouting trees. Brightly-colored flowers blossomed. The grass stood inches tall and the air felt warm by the sun. Flapping its wings, the yellow Chocobo scurried further into the great unknown. Then it abruptly stopped.

On one of the hills there stood a tall, dark shape. The ominous figure had no face. With long slender arms, it beckoned to the Chocobo to come to it. The feathers on the big yellow bird quivered, both terrified and excited by this mysterious presence. All the while, the song played on.

_Chocobo, Chocobo_  
_You're mine now, pretty Chocobo_  
_Hush, you squalling thing, hear what I say_  
_We'll stalk the fields together, somehow, someday_

By the time Cloud woke up, the train's operator was in the middle of announcing his stop. He must've been asleep for longer than he thought, Cloud realized. Both the whore and her client were gone. Only two passengers remained in the train's compartment with him. There was the beggar who muttered nonstop about Death close by and a silver-hair child who sat by himself at a far corner; his back facing everyone.

Cloud rubbed at his tired eyes and sat up. He checked his person to make sure he hadn't been robbed during his nap. Thankfully, his PHS was still in his coat's pocket and the tape wrapped around his barcode tattoo hadn't been tampered with. A few minutes later the train arrived at his stop. The double doors spread opened and Cloud walked through them. He stepped onto a poorly lit platform.

The air was stale and heavy. Cloud could smell the ash of burning cigarettes and musky stench of days' old unwashed skin. At this time of the evening, the Slums' train station harbored a modest amount of people. Most were dealers, gangs, and beggars. They lingered at the station on a regular basis in search of potential victims, particularly Plate-residents who needed to return top-side. But there was another group of people that inhabited this place. They were known as the _Night Creepers_.

With no moon or streetlights, the underworld was at its darkest during the evening hours. Only a few fire-lit lanterns and barrels offered warmth and visibility from the cold, pitch-black environment. Whereas Wall Market and other hot spots were fortunate enough to have power generators, the rest of the Slums remained in total darkness. This became a problematic issue for any Slum resident who wanted to travel about in the evening hours. That was when the Night Creepers stepped in.

The Night Creepers appeared with lanterns or flashlights in hand, serving as nocturnal guides to anyone in exchange for a small fee. They set up shop at all relevant locations in the Slums, including the train station. Most of them were children or elders; people too young or vulnerable to find other means of employment. The life of a Night Creeper was a dangerous one though. Any of them could be raped, beaten, mugged, or murdered on the job.

Sitting on a bench at the platform, Cloud found a scrawny female child with a vintage-newsboy cap. Shaggy black bangs covered half of her face, revealing a scar on her left cheek. The tiny Night Creeper wore a stained blouse double her size; her knee-low shorts were held up by suspenders. One leg was wrapped in a long dirty cloth. With two baby teeth missing, she smiled as Cloud approached her.

"Cloudie! You'th finally here." The child beamed. Her high-pitched voice contained a strong lisp. "I'th waited for ya like I'th prom'ithed."

"Heya, Lisp." Cloud returned her smile. He never knew the Night Creeper's real name; she never gave it. And so Cloud nicknamed her _Lisp_.

By all accounts, the child didn't belong in the streets or in this dangerous line of work. However, Cloud had learned from Kyle that Lisp's mother, a prostitute, was pregnant with a third child. No father. No extended family. All of this left a financial burden on Lisp. She was the oldest child at seven-years-old. Sympathetic toward her difficult situation, Cloud made Lisp his regular Night Creeper. The little girl was too proud to accept donations so he had no choice but to employ her.

Any time he left for an evening shift, attended class, or randomly visited the Plate during a late hour, he gave Lisp an estimated time and location for their meeting. And at each appointment Lisp showed up. Tonight was no different. She sat at her regular spot and waited for him with lantern in hand.

Once Cloud placed five Gil in Lisp's grimy hand, the child grabbed a rusty, oversized unlit lantern from the bench. She readjusted her cap with a determined look on her face. "Let'th roll, Cloudie."

Lisp got to her feet and led Cloud out of the platform. They exited through a large metal gate to the west side of the station. Beyond that point, they were greeted to a world of darkness. Cloud could barely make out the tell-tale lights from Wall Market at a distance. Lisp struck a match against her sturdy boot and lit up her lantern. The darkness instantly lifted and the two were able to see a few feet ahead. Satisfied, Lisp nodded and took the lead.

Cloud was tempted to hold the light as she struggled to keep it steady with both hands. This always happened. Her thin arms were too weak. But the small girl conjured up a straight face anyway and marched ahead like a little lady on a mission.

Together, they headed to the direction of Cloud's apartment. It was chilly that night, more so due to the early days of winter. A puff of air escaped their lips with each breath produced. Cloud shoved both hands into his coat's pockets. As he followed, he noticed Lisp walk with a wobble. It was from a leg injury she had sustained by an unruly customer last week. The bastard had stolen the kid's earnings and knocked her out cold with a single punch. On her way down, Lisp had twisted her ankle. They never found the creep. To this day, it pissed Cloud off. He watched the young Night Creeper fumble with her oversized lantern again and softly sighed. The scrawny girl could barely keep it from dropping.

"Here, Lisp," Cloud said and snatched the lantern from her when she nearly dropped it for the umpteenth time. Before the child could protest, he lifted the girl up with his free hand. Cloud let her ride on his back while he held the lantern.

"D'aw, Cloudie! I'th can hold the lamp ju'th fine," the stubborn child insisted with a pout on her face.

"I know you can. I just like giving brats like you piggy-backs. Now shut up and let me carry you."

The Night Creeper giggled and playfully tugged at a spikey lock of blond hair. Later, her tiny hands wrapped around Cloud's neck to hold on. They continued on their journey.

As Lisp hummed a random melody, Cloud thought about Tifa. He recalled how Tifa was a rash and stubborn child at Lisp's age. Perhaps that was why he'd taken an immediate liking to the young Night Creeper. Even if Cloud never got the chance to know Tifa Lockhart well, he still missed her and actively looked for people or places that reminded him of her.

Cloud held the light higher. Mountains of trash blocked and created routes to different locations of the Slums. This was as close to _street roads_ as anyone could get down here. Cloud kept to the main paths and avoided small clusters of people. He didn't trust anyone at this time of the night. They trekked down a long-winded trail until they came to a familiar setting composed of wooden-made shacks and lop-sided buildings: his neighborhood.

A modest-sized field with large rocks and steel plates, each painted with names, made up the local cemetery. From a distance, Cloud spotted his apartment complex. It was one of the few places with running electricity and water thanks to its power generators. He paused from his stride when he felt an eerie sensation of another's presence. It was followed by the sounds of shuffled feet.

"Cloudie…?" The Night Creeper was alerted by the noise as well and turned her head.

From his coat's pocket, Cloud removed a switchblade. He pointed the lantern to his left and tried to locate the source of the noise. There was only a wall of discarded metals. To his right, more trash. Nothing. No one was there. Cloud took a long deep breath. He concluded it was a stray dog in search of food and resumed their walk. They weren't far away from his building now. Crushed glass chimed this time when they crossed the cemetery. The noise came directly behind them. Cloud froze in place. Without missing a beat, he twirled around and held up his knife and lantern.

Cloud nearly choked when the light fell on the shadow of a person. It stood by a large engraved rock in the cemetery. The silhouette walked forward. Both Cloud and the Night Creeper got quiet. The teen's hand clutched the switchblade while his heart committed to a faster beat. As this lonely figure stepped further into the light, though, Cloud began to understand the shape better. It was a woman.

The lantern's light cast the fierce orange color of her curly hair. It was pulled up into a disheveled bun. Her entire face contained sharp angles and shapes, from her nose to the chin. Cloud frowned when he noticed her Shinra uniform. The woman donned an officer's outfit, fully decked out with ribbons. Cloud wondered why a top-ranked officer stalked these grounds at this hour. Shinra's officials typically stayed on the Plate. Even in the event of a crisis in the Slums, the company only deployed its lower ranks or Turks to deal with it. There was no reason for an officer of this caliber to be down here.

This wasn't the only aspect of the encounter that baffled Cloud. As he closely observed this Shinra solider, he was struck with powerful hit of déjà vu. He'd seen her before. Somewhere. Some other time. An image came to Cloud. He mentally pictured the woman on her back with her breasts exposed. He saw her face suddenly cringe. Half in pain. Half in delight. A nipple bled red.

_Is this your first time seeing something like this, boy?_

Cloud didn't know what to make of that surreal image. Tempted to ask the female officer if she was okay, he opened his mouth to speak. Then he shut it. The soldier appeared… _off_. She walked passed Cloud and Lisp without a glance and muttered several strings of incoherent words to herself. Her eyes stayed on the ground and never blinked. Engaged in some private debate with herself, she shook her head left to right and made various hand motions. Cloud took a step back, perplexed by the officer's mental state. He watched her walk away until she abruptly stopped.

"Mine. Mine. Mine…" the woman mumbled. "He'll be mine. All mine. No one else can have him. No one can touch him. I'll kill anyone who touches him. I'll fucking kill them all. I swear…"

Lisp's hands gradually tightened around Cloud's neck. Her tiny body went frigid as she kept quiet.

The officer paused for a moment, as if she finally realized she was not alone. She turned and glared directly at Cloud. Her green eyes were intense under the lantern's light. They practically burned. Her voice boomed when she demanded, " _Have you seen her? Is she here?_ "

Cloud kept his switchblade to his side. He swallowed hard. "I don't know who you're talking about."

" _Her,_ " the soldier hissed, as if he knew what the fuck she was talking about. The woman's face twisted into a look of disgust. "Don't play stupid with me. I know that bitch is here. Somewhere. I'll find her. I won't let her touch him. I'll find out what she looks like and where she lives and deal with her."

 _Deal with her_ , Cloud repeated in his head. He took another step back. This officer sounded pissed off and ready for a fight. Avoiding eye contact, he muttered back, "Miss, I've no idea what or _who_ you're talking about."

"Of course you wouldn't," the officer barked. She practically hissed at him. "You're pathetic. _All_ of your kind down here is pathetic. Including _her_."

Cloud's eyes bore down on the soldier. He bit back the first offensive remark that popped in his head, partly because she belonged to the very company he wanted to join.

"Your unruly lot is unworthy of my angel's love," the officer continued, "Why my angel would want to see a bitch from the Slums is beyond me. We should drop the Plate on all of you. Squash your kind like the filthy cockroaches you are, especially that whore who wants to take my angel away."

Again, Cloud was tempted to give this woman a piece of his mind. However, he finally understood why she was in the underworld at this late hour. The officer had apparently been betrayed by her lover, this _angel_. Now she sought retribution by confronting the _other_ woman.

"I am the Chosen One," the officer claimed and raised her voice even higher. She sounded on the verge of shouting. " _Me_. I've proven my worth to him. Many times. No one else can have my angel. He's mine. _Mine._ I'll kill them all. I'll gut that bitch once I find her. I already know she lives down here. Hah, my angel thought he was clever. He thought he could hide her from me. But I will learn her face soon enough. He intends to meet with this bitch very soon and when he does I'll _fucking kill her_."

Cloud stared at the deranged woman. That type of behavior was definitely unbecoming of an officer. He couldn't understand how a Shinra employee, especially one with such a high status, could become so _unglued_ like this. Then again, love made people crazy. Some drank up that shit and became obsessed loons. Cloud briefly glanced at his switchblade, making sure the knife was still out. The longer he talked with this bizarre soldier the more uneasy he felt. As if the Slums weren't creepy enough. Cloud suspected it was the same for Lisp.

"Cloudie…" the Night Creeper suddenly whispered into his ear. Her voice sounded low and slightly shaken. "Thi'th woman i'f bad. Let'th go… I'm f'cared…"

Before Cloud could reply, the officer frantically grabbed a chunk of her own beautiful orange hair. She ripped it straight off the scalp and absently stared at the clump. "Why, my sweet love? Why am I not enough for you? Why must you see yet another? Am I not worthy of your love, my angel? Must I _prove_ myself again? You are the will that drives my soul. You are my _God_. I want to see your beautiful face. I want to see your eyes; your lovely green eyes… No one else should see them. Only me. You are mines. Mine…"

The woman repeated _mine_ in a flat monotone voice. All the while, she tore off more of her curly hair. Cloud winced each time he heard a dull, tear sound. Clumps of hair fell to the ground, some still attached to bloody, fleshy bits. Dark blotches quickly formed across the woman's scalp. Lines of blood streaked down her forehead.

"Mine… Mine… Mine…"

The officer suddenly paused from her violent fit and kneeled over. She vomited. Not once or twice but several times in quick succession. Cloud grimaced. Lowering his lantern, the light revealed an icky black substance on the ground. It oozed; almost pulsed. Moaning loudly, the woman continued to spew more blackness from her wet mouth. A wet spot spread between her legs as she pissed on herself.

"Mine… Mine… Mine…" she whispered with a strange smile on her face. Then she vomited again.

It was at this point Cloud heeded Lisp's advice. He retreated from the horrific scene, nearly sprinting. This officer was bat-shit crazy. And apparently sick. A part of Cloud was tempted to call a doctor or the IM for assistance. However, his priority rested in getting Lisp to safety first. He didn't want the young Night Creeper to witness any more of this terrifying woman. Cloud hurried to his home down the block. The darkness of the Slums engulfed the officer. He could still hear her purge in the distance.

Thankfully, they made it to his apartment building without further incident. Cloud and Lisp stood outside his building. They caught their breaths; both of them on edge. With a quiet sigh, he finally bent down on one knee. The Night Creeper got off.

"Lisp, come inside," Cloud practically ordered and handed the child back her lantern. "I don't want you going just yet, not with that crazy soldier still out there."

Lisp's tiny hands gripped the handle of her lantern. Her lower lip quivered but not from the chilly air. She nodded in silence.

Together, they approached the entrance of the five-storied building in front of them. From the outside, Cloud's _apartment building_ was nothing more than a make-shift structure constructed of flimsy rusted metal sheets, chipped red brick, and iron beams that dangled outward dangerously. All sorts of crude words and gang-affiliated symbols were spray-painted across its walls. The wooden sign itself, _El Palacio_ , missed a few letters. Because of the rotten foundation, the apartment leaned heavily to the right.

Cloud pushed past the metal double doors. They squeaked loudly. Home sweet home. He opted to take the elevator to his floor. Cloud shoved the gate to the side and let the child enter first. Afterward, he clicked on his floor button. A single light bulb buzzed while the elevator whirled to life. No doubt, it sucked up a lot of juice in this building. On various occasions the elevator had a tendency to shut down and get stuck in between a floor. Cloud hoped it wouldn't happen tonight since he was too wired up to deal with a malfunction, especially with a child by his side. He pressed his back against a gated wall and slumped there. The wires and cables whined loudly and the elevator started its slow ascent.

Lisp looked up at the teen with her big black eyes. Quietly, she asked, "Wa'f that woman f'ick?"

"Yeah. She looked sick…" Cloud dryly commented back. He paused when he noticed the look of fear on Lisp's face. He soon added, "But don't worry: we're fine. We didn't catch anything from her."

"You f'ure?"

"Mm-hm. That woman probably ate something bad. Food poisoning. You know? That happens. Even at Chocobo Chow. _Especially_ at Chocobo Chow." Cloud forced a small smile.

With rumors of a dangerous virus on the loose, it was no wonder why the child looked scared. Lisp struggled to keep her lantern upright. Her brows pulled together as she appeared deep in thought. Eventually, she nodded and smiled at Cloud's dry joke.

The two kept silent after that. While the elevator rose, Cloud stared at the posters, business cards, and newspaper clippings that littered the gated walls. The elevator served as a place people posted current happenings or events. On the ceiling a religious fanatic wrote _Promised Land_ at least thirty times. Not far from Cloud, there were newspaper clippings of _Midgar Times_. Most involved the corpse sightings across the city. One particular headline intrigued the boy. According to the title, forensics had finally identified the corpse from the museum last week. It belonged to a man named Marko Simmons. His obituary was listed in the article.

For Cloud, it was strange seeing Marko's face with his skin intact. His distorted body had been embedded in Cloud's memory that it became nearly impossible to connect the average-looking mug shot on the newspaper with the smiling corpse. According to the article, Marko Simmons was twenty-four-years-old at the time of his death. An architect from the Urban Development Department, he had no wife or children. Up until his untimely demise he had lived a normal life. Nothing about the man proved unique. He was like the rest of the worker bees in Shinra. A dark thought crept in Cloud's mind.

In a way, Marko's ho-hum existence had been replaced by something extraordinary. His death, however grotesque and disturbing as it was, immortalized him. People would still remember him in the years to come. Marko was the man who had died with a smile on his face.

Cloud bit the tip of his tongue. He hated how warped his young mind worked. That gloomy, pessimistic nature of his got the best of him sometimes. Yet, already, he could see himself in Marko Simmons's same shoes prior to the man's death. _Here rested Cloud Strife. No wife. No children. He resided in the Slums and worked at Chocobo Chow. He was survived by his mother and dog. The end._ That described his obituary in a nutshell. His bones would be buried in the land of trash along with the other has-beens at the Slums' cemetery. A rock or some discarded steel plate with his name painted on it would provide the only proof he ever existed. If he was lucky no one would misspell it or mistake his rock for a seat. Feeling depressed by this stream of thought, Cloud forced his eyes away from the newspaper article.

Cable beams shrieked. At last, the elevator arrived on his floor with a thump. Cloud opened the gate for Lisp. Once the elevator was closed, he joined the child on the hallway and headed for his apartment. The door opened after a few labored tries and Cloud switched on the light.

Almost immediately, Ms. Tinker leapt out of nowhere. The excited dog tackled Cloud's legs. Her tail wagged non-stop. Whimpering, she sounded on the verge of tears over her master's return. Cloud knelt down and scratched behind his pet's floppy ears.

"If you're hungry there are some leftovers in the fridge," Cloud notified to Lisp and nodded at the 'kitchen' area. Afterward, he went to the door and chain-bolted it. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna make a quick phone call."

While the prospect of food enticed the young Night Creeper, she briefly sat beside Ms. Tinker and patted her head. The dog sloppily licked her hands nonstop. Lisp giggled. "D'aw! Good doggie! Purty!"

With the kid occupied, Cloud took this opportunity to call for help. He pulled out his PHS and approached his window. Pushing aside the curtain, the view showed only the bricked texture of the building next door. Even so, by standing at a specific corner spot he could peek outside. There was a narrow alleyway between his building and the next. Beyond it was a small overview of the neighborhood, including the cemetery.

Whether the deranged soldier was still out there Cloud did not know. Everything stayed pitched black beyond his apartment building. Cloud's fingers dialed the emergency system's number. Seconds later, he heard a familiar theme song from Shinra Incorporation play. It was followed by a female's voice that sounded so calm he initially mistook it for an automatic voice message.

" _This is Shinra's Emergency Call Center. How may I direct your call?_ "

"Um, hey," Cloud answered the operator. "I'd like to make a report here at Sector 7. Or, uh, I don't know, an emergency?"

Cloud relayed his entire encounter with the strange soldier. When asked if he wished to disclose his personal information and act as a key witness in the event of a court martial, he opted out. The last thing Cloud wanted was for this crazy bitch to come after _him_. He'd only called to get the soldier the medical attention she needed anyway.

A part of Cloud thought about the supposed _biological virus_ rumors he had read online. Like Lisp before, he inwardly feared he'd come into contact with whatever made the soldier ill. He'd shower five times tonight for sure, Cloud told himself.

A few more questions were asked. Cloud didn't know what to make of these inquiries. Was the officer alone when he saw her? Yes. Had the officer mention any names during their encounter? Sorta. Could he describe the black substance? Icky and fucked up. Did the soldier exhibit any unusual behavior such as violence toward herself or others? Hell yeah, she did. Was her skin discolored? Not that he noticed. What was the color of her eyes? He didn't remember; he was too busy staring at her bloody head. Throughout the questions, Shinra's operator maintained a single-toned voice. It disturbed Cloud in a way. Eventually, the conversation ended and twenty minutes later he heard sirens in his block.

Peeping outside from his corner spot by the window, Cloud discovered a black armored vehicle with flashing yellow lights. The diamond-shaped logo of Shinra Inc. appeared on its side. A group of people stepped out with flashlights in hand. The party consisted of three Shinra infantrymen and two individuals in light-gray overalls with face masks.

Having studied the entire hierarchy of Shinra Incorporation and its mandatory dress codes, Cloud knew the gray-suited individuals came from the Science division. He hoped their presence didn't confirm an outbreak. In which case, the whole area would be quarantined, starting with _his_ residency. Hell no.

Cloud's face quickly drew into a frown when he spotted the final person in the party. A man with an arm sling was the last to step out of the vehicle. It was a Turk: Vincent Valentine.

Strange. On matters like this, the Turks weren't called in. It was a job assigned to the Security Department. Perhaps it was because this involved a highly ranked officer of Shinra it required the presence of a Turk. Cloud had no idea. He saw the man in the sharp suit briefly stay behind and take in the area with one long sweeping gaze. Valentine's red eyes shined. The Turk finally ventured into the cemetery with the others. Beams from their flashlights penetrated through the darkness.

Cloud quietly cursed when his limited vision prevented him from seeing much of the action outside. He practically pushed his face against the window's glass to get a better view.

It was around this time Lisp stood. She'd eaten the leftovers Cloud had offered and now appeared ready to leave. "Thank'th for the grub, but I'th need to go now," Lisp announced and grabbed her lantern.

Cloud tried one more time to get a better look of the scene outside. The group of six moved beyond his field of vision. Damn. Reluctantly, he gave up and pulled away from the window. Cloud finally turned his attentions to the child. "Are you sure?"

"Mm-hm."

His brows furrowed, still concerned over her safety. "You can stay at my place tonight, you know. I got an extra blanket and pillow."

The child shook her head. "Aw, Cloudie. Thank'th. But I haf more round'th to run tonight. Momma need'th the Gil."

Cloud crossed his arms but nodded in understanding. He later removed an extra ten Gil from his pocket and put it in her palm. It was the least he could do considering what they had just encountered. "This is a tip for a job well done. Take it, Lisp."

"Wow, thank'th ya, Cloudie!" The child's eyes danced in the light.

"Will you be okay though?" he pressed again, "I'll walk you out."

"Pft. Don't worry about me, Cloudie. I'm not a baby."

"I know. But be careful, Lisp. Seriously." Cloud pulled out his switchblade and stared at it for a moment. He didn't like the idea of giving a minor a weapon. Then again, he didn't like the idea of Lisp going out there unprotected. Cloud offered it to the child. "Take this."

Lisp glanced at the pocket knife. She frowned. "It'th okay. I'll be okay, Cloudie."

"I know you will, kid. But I'll sleep better tonight if you took it anyway."

Lisp exhaled as she looked back and forth between Cloud and the pocket knife. She must've known Cloud wouldn't take _no_ for an answer because she finally accepted it. "Thank'th…"

"Don't go stabbing your eye with it. And promise me you'll head home soon. Just for tonight. Got it?"

"'Kay, _dad_ …" Lisp replied, sounding irritated. She walked over to Ms. Tinker and patted the dog. To Cloud, she said, "If ya need me again, lemme know. 'Kay, Cloudie?"

"Always." The teenager undid the door's bolts for her. He saw Lisp balance her lantern with both hands again on her way out. With a lout snort, Cloud caught the girl's lantern before it slipped from her fingers. "You got butterfingers, Lisp, I swear."

The Night Creeper stuck her tongue at him. Then her eyes softened. Quietly, she urged, "You'th be careful too. I don't want ya to get f'ick. Promi'th me ya won't get f'ick like that lady, Cloudie. _Promi'th._ "

Cloud stared at the child. He silently nodded back. "Promise."

Lisp quickly smiled. Her shoulders relaxed. After a sloppy hand salute, the little lady stepped out.

Cloud closed the door after Lisp. He soon overheard the elevator's gate open and close in the hallway. Its cables moaned loudly during its descent. When the elevator finally reached the bottom floor, Cloud walked to his window again. Lisp's lantern could now be seen outside. It shined brightly within the darkness. Cloud kept a watchful eye on Lisp and hoped the Night Creeper would change her mind and return or stay safe during her evening ventures. As she headed northbound, he focused on her lantern's light until it gradually disappeared from his line of sight. Cloud exhaled slowly.

From where he stood, the country boy saw nothing. Even Shinra's people were nowhere to be seen. Their abandoned vehicle's emergency lights still bathed the whole block yellow with its nonstop flashes. A few people from the building next door had cracked opened their windows to peer outside. Nothing came from it though. Everyone remained clueless over what had just happened. But Cloud knew. Somewhere in this world of pitch blackness was a strange woman driven by her own despair.

Cloud pursed his lips. He recalled the eerie, flat sound of the woman's voice in his head. _Mine, mine, mine…_ Nothing had fazed her, only that twisted obsession she reserved for her lover and the _whore_ that stood between them. It brought the soldier to the point of a mental breakdown. She was also sick, _very_ sick. An unstable woman like that was capable of anything. And on that note, Cloud checked his window to make sure it was secured.

Sure, she hadn't followed him home. She was in search of another woman; the same woman who'd attracted the attention of her green-eyed _angel_. Yet, the disgruntled soldier currently stalked for this alleged whore in Cloud's neighborhood. Had the officer kept an eye on him during his retreat, she'd have known which of the buildings he occupied. Cloud didn't want to consider that possibility.

His heart raced when he realized he forgot to lock the door after Lisp left. Paranoia got the best of Cloud as he took several slow steps toward it. His heart thumped louder. He recalled all the cheesy horror films he'd watched. They all involved some stupid protagonist forgetting to lock the door only to be surprised by the killer soon afterward. Cloud halfway expected the door to slam open and a terrifying woman to jump at him with a shriek. It thankfully never happened. There was no boogeyman. It was all in his head. Even after Cloud chained and bolted his door and looked through its peephole as a precaution, he saw only an unoccupied hallway. Nothing was amiss. He was safe.

Cloud breathed out loud and ran both hands through his damped hair. He reminded himself Shinra's best people were on the case. They'd definitely find the woman, especially with a Turk among them. Besides, Ms. Tinker didn't appear alarmed right now. Resting at her usual spot by his skateboard, she would've barked had she sensed an intruder. Cloud also had his sword to defend himself. There was nothing to fear. He was just being an overly paranoid chicken-shit pansy.

Cloud growled, annoyed with himself. It was time to stop acting like a baby. He started to strip off his clothes for a long-overdue shower. Considering the hectic day he had, he certainly earned it.

Cloud entered his bathroom in the nude and tossed today's used uniform into the clothes bin. As soon as he turned on the showerhead he stepped inside. Cloud softly hissed under the lines of hot water. At first, the tiny pricks of intense heat against his skin made him wince. But the teen finally welcomed the sensation as it brought him out of his paranoid state. Cloud placed both palms against the tiled wall and thoroughly soaked his body, not bothering with the soap or shampoo yet.

Hot air collected. It created a thick mist in the bathroom. As his skin softened, Cloud considered jerking himself off. Playing with his cock always eased the tension in his belly. He needed it now more than ever. But after a few furious strokes Cloud remained limp. He couldn't relax. His restless mind entertained too many questions and concerns. Among them was the unfortunate woman the deranged soldier had sought.

Cloud felt a great swell of pity toward this _whore_. Whoever she was, she wasn't safe. A psychotic officer was on the hunt for her head. Hell hath no fury than a woman's scorn. Cloud nearly chuckled at the thought while he grabbed the bar of soap and applied it over his skin. All things considered, he was lucky. It had been a rotten day for him today. But at least he didn't have some sick broad searching for him right now with the intent of killing him. The last time he checked, Cloud hadn't attracted the attention of any green-eyed angels. Thank Gaia.


End file.
